


Extemporaneous

by LostLoveLetters



Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Businessmen, Childish Retaliation, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Pranks, Romance, Roommates, Self-Denial, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2018-07-12 10:04:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 59,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7098328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostLoveLetters/pseuds/LostLoveLetters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh? And what exactly do you have in mind?"</p><p>        "Hmm? How about. . ." Karma thinks for a moment and on a whim, proposes, "This place has two bedrooms." He smirks  and continues, "Let's see who can outlast the other. The last person to leave can have this penthouse to themselves. Fair?"</p><p>Gakushuu calls it a lapse of judgement. Karma thinks he might have overestimated their competitive streaks. </p><p>It does not matter. </p><p>Because with a pen stroke and the very ecstatic grin of the real estate agent, Karma and Gakushuu suddenly find themselves sharing a penthouse. . . All for the sake of - of - huh. What exactly are they competing for again?</p><p>Or AKA a story in which two twenty five year olds act like five year olds. much to the exasperation of the people around.  them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Demented is the Word of the Month

 

**Chapter 1: Demented is the Word of the Month**

"So, shall we discuss the property value?"

The blond woman smiles winningly back at them, lips a glossy pink and cerulean eyes gleaming sharply in anticipation.

Karma flashes her a lazy grin in return. He can almost see the blinding dollar signs in her eyes, and wow, sharks really are the spirit animals of real estate agents, aren't they?

Karma leans back against the sofa and his eyes slide to his right. Asano still has a deceptively benign smile, legs crossed gracefully, not one ounce of tension in his frame. The picture of the perfect gentleman.

Karma knows better though. There is a glint to Asano's eyes that tells him Asano would much rather be throwing the tea in his face than calmly sipping it in the living room.

He surveys Asano for a moment. His cheekbones are slightly sharper, facial features more angled than before. His bangs are trimmed slightly to reveal his eyes more, the strawberry blond locks no longer reaching his ears. But, the navy blue suit and white collared shirt is as much of an emblem of authority and superiority as the school president armband was.

Asano looks every inch a formidable CEO, and it undeniably fits him. It's fascinating, really, how Asano manages to conceal his cutthroat lethality with the harmless charisma of a model in an Abercombie & Fitch ad.

Karma suppresses another snicker. To think he would meet Asano again after all these years . . . and while house hunting, no less.

Oh, this is going to be _fun_.

Karma hides a smirk and deliberately drawls, "Ne, why don't you be the better man, Asano-kun? I'm tired of looking at real estate listings. Have a little pity for me, won't you?"

Asano's eyes flick briefly to him – _Of course_ , he would meet Akabane while searching for a new place to live because when has fate ever run out of sadistic tricks to play with? - and answers nonchalantly, "You're asking for sympathy from the wrong person. Business men are not known for being magnanimous." He raises an eyebrow and smiles pleasantly, "You're a bureaucrat now. Should you not consider the needs of the citizens before your own?"

Karma grins and says with a teasing lilt that makes Asano's eye twitch just so slightly, "I didn't know you were so optimistic of our politicians today. It's too bad, but I'm a completely selfish individual."

Man, it's so easy to rile up Asano. Karma wonders how long he can drag this out before Asano storms out of the room. Five? Ten minutes?

"How fortunate your current job is not an elected position then," Gakushuu intones dryly as he lifts up the tea cup. It taste too tepid for his liking, and he inwardly sighs. He should just leave, shouldn't he? This penthouse is not worth haggling over with Akabane.

He swears Akabane is like tomato sauce on a white shirt. You can never get rid of it, and the spill always happens when you least expect it to.

Gakushuu's eyes flick to him. He's dressed in an unbuttoned collared white shirt under a black v-neck sweater with matching dark, belted slacks. It lends him a sense of casual professionalism, but the laidback confidence in his demeanor leaves the lasting impression.

Akabane has not changed though. Taller perhaps than the last time Gakushuu saw him, his red hair a tad longer than before, and his features are more defined and pronounced now. But, the deceptively innocent smile playing on the edges of his lips and the mischievousness flickering in those golden eyes are still there.

All that wild recklessness and destructiveness somehow blanketed under a careless innocence. For someone with a mind shrewd enough to compete with him, Akabane is so frustratingly flippant and carefree.

In short, Akabane is still his infuriating self, and seeing him only brings back memories that sours Gakushuu's tongue.

He suppresses a frown. He should leave. Didn't his secretary mention another real estate listing that he has not checked yet?

Karma tilts his head at the sudden pinched expression on Asano's face and thinks that maybe ten minutes is too generous of an estimate. Asano looks like he's ready to leave any minute, and Karma has not even started teasing him yet. With a smirk, he responds slyly in response to Asano's previous comment, "How rude. I happen to be a delightful conversation partner, you know. Did you forget the wonderful, engaging dialogues we had in school together?"

Or he could kill Akabane. That is another perfectly viable option. Sure, the real estate agent is sitting across from them, but he spent months trying to set up his father. Surely, Gakushuu can think of some way to make Akabane stop talking right now. Preferably forever. He has a tea cup and a spoon, not the most conventional tools to commit murder with, but certainly not impossible.

The woman, in question, watches the two of them warily as they seem completely engaged with whatever silent conversation they're having. If the increasingly darkening auras from the two of them are any indication, it's not a particularly friendly one.

She clears her throat, "Ahem, gentleman."

At her words, the two immediately turn their attention back to him, and there is something unnerving about those golden and violet eyes pinning her down. This is . . . starting to seem like a difficult sale.

She smiles though because it's the first thing they teach you in real estate and damn it, Emiko is not going to beat her in sales this month just because this penthouse has been a pain to sell. Her eyes flick back to the two men. These two are the most promising buyers so far, and she won't let them slip away from her grasp.

She tucks her hair behind her ear and continues carefully, making sure to keep her voice pleasant and warm, "I think we're getting a little off topic here. Would it be better if I discussed the terms and conditions of the purchase separately with the each of you?"

To her dismay, Karma completely disregards her words and only turns to Asano to hum, "I'm curious. Why do you want this apartment? Ace-kun?"

There's a slight narrowing of Asano's eyes, no doubt in irritation at the nickname, but he merely counters coolly, "Why do you?"

Karma grins - although to be honest, it's a little irritating how Asano still has his impeccable self-control. Maybe ten minutes is not as generous of an estimate, after all - and offers, "I don't really. My boss keeps nagging me to get a more respectable place to live in." He raises his fingers to make air quotes and mimics the deep, gravelly voice of his boss, "Karma-kun, your lifestyle reflects too much one of a college bachelor than a bureaucrat."

He shrugs and continues in his usual voice again, "Or so he says."

"You need more than a change of residence, Akabane. Do something about your personality first."

Karma's lips quirk in amusement and he hums, "Eh? Isn't that the kettle calling the pot black?"

Asano gives him a sidelong glance and realizes aloud, "You're doing this on purpose."

Karma smiles and says innocently, "Doing what on purpose? Aren't you being a little too hostile for a seven year reunion?"

Gakushuu gives him an unamused look and says warningly, a hint of impatience in his voice, "If you waste my time, I'm perfectly fine with wasting yours."

Karma grins. He can tell that Asano's patience is wearing thin. Perfect. He leans back and turns his head to face Asano. "I could give you the same advice. Shouldn't you know better than to compete with me, Second place-kun?" He deliberately drawls the last words and smirks when Asano's expression tightens.

Asano narrows his eyes but answers deceptively calmly, "I see you're still reliving your glory days."

Karma shrugs and says flippantly, "Who says they ended?"

Gakushuu purposefully shakes his head and says in an almost pitying tone, "You're deluding yourself. It's not healthy to be living in the past."

He is pleased to find Akabane's eyebrows dipping ever so slightly as Akabane counters with the same grin, "It's not healthy to hold onto grudges either, Ace-kun."

Gakushuu says dryly, "As if you're not arguing with me right now just for the sake of irritating me. No one likes hypocrisy, Akabane."

"It takes one to know one."

Gakushuu represses a vexed sigh and instead announces curtly, "I already made my decision. I'm purchasing this apartment."

The woman speaks up then with raised eyebrows, "You are? I have not discussed the pri-"

"Did you forget I'm still standing here?" Karma tilts his head and frowns slightly, not appreciating the dismissive gesture from Asano. "Surely, your vision is still intact. Have you been skipping out on your carrots? Vitamin A is necessary, you know."

Gakushuu ignores him again and looks toward the woman instead. "What is the price for this listing?"

The real estate agent blinks in bewilderment. Honestly, she tuned out of this argument a while ago. She's not interested in mediating in what looks like much needed couple therapy for these two. In fact, if they're interested in buying just for the sake of one upping each other in some macho pissing contest, then hey, great. As long as someone buys this damned penthouse, she considers it a win.

She clears her throat and says smoothly, "Currently we have a standing offer of -"

"Don't you do enough bidding and price haggling at your job, Ace-kun?" Akabane interrupts once again.

The real estate agent's eye twitches slightly even as she keeps her pleasant smile plastered on her face. If they interrupt her one more time, she'll throw them both out, the sale be damned.

The red head does not notice though and waves a hand dismissively in the air. "Auctions are boring." His lips quirk up in a mischievous grin and with eyes wide and bright, he suggests tauntingly, "Let's… do something more interesting."

Gakushuu raises an eyebrow at that, intrigued in spite of himself. "Oh? And what exactly do you have in mind?"

"Hmm? How about. . ." Karma thinks for a moment and on a whim, proposes, "This place has two bedrooms." He smirks and continues "Let's see who can outlast the other. The last person to leave can have this penthouse to themselves. Fair?"

Karma knows Asano won't agree to it. But, the sheer absurdity of the image of them staying in one enclosed space makes him want to cackle aloud and he just can't resist throwing the idea out there. His lips twitch upwards again as he surveys Asano for his reaction.

Gakushuu stares at Akabane. He is only interested in this place because it's in a neighborhood that is respectable and yet low profile enough for him to avoid corporate rivals and their trophy wives. Quite frankly, he's getting tired of how transparent and gaudy those people are. If he hears one more person go on and on about the merits of golfing and spa retreats, he really might lose it.

. . . Or consolidate all of the golfing courses and spas under his company. Either or. People, after all, can't brag about something they no longer have.

That being said, surely, there are other places that meet his preference just as much. He is not desperate enough to accept such a suicidal request…

His eyes flick back to Akabane and his jaw immediately clenches at the deeply self-satisfied smirk he sees. His fingers tighten imperceptibly on the cup, but Gakushuu can feel the delicate china cracking under his grip.

It's the most asinine thing ever to compete for, petty even. It really _is_ , and he knows it. But, the words are as much as a dare as the challenging gleam in Akabane's eyes, and damn it, there is nothing that he detests more than losing to Akabane. All he sees is that aggravating expression and suddenly Gakushuu finds himself saying, "Fine, I accept."

Karma blinks. What? He glances at Asano and shit, Asano looks completely serious. Karma recognizes that familiar glint in those calculative eyes, remembers seeing it countless times before in school.

His smile falters slightly because really? Asano is agreeing to this? But, backing down is not something he knows how to do and Karma tries to keep his tone light as he answers, "Alright. So do I."

Before either of them could say anything else, the real estate agent suddenly ventures aloud, "So, then, er, I'm sorry, but are you two agreeing to share the penthouse? As in . . . roommates of sorts?"

God, why are all good looking men idiots? Oh well, she'll make it work. Who cares if they share? This penthouse will finally be sold and she can finally be rid of it. Hell yes.

Asano cringes slightly and Karma does the same. Roommates? Her words make it painfully clear the insane decision that the two of them are making. And geez, Karma knows Asano has a competitive streak and he isn't any better, but this is extreme even for them.

Karma looks out of the corner of his eye, but Asano stays stubbornly tight lipped, clearly unhappy but unwilling to take back his words. He shifts restlessly in response and looks towards the woman. He smiles weakly and shrugs.

The woman suddenly beams at both of them and chirps brightly, "Excellent! Then, let me find a revised contract for you two." She turns to her briefcase and rummages through it before thrusting two shiny blue folders towards them. "Here. Please look over them and sign."

Karma blinks and takes the folder a bit bewilderedly. He surveys the woman again, noting the strange enthusiasm in her eyes and the giddiness of her smile. A successful sale would make any real estate agent sigh in happiness, but she looks thoroughly ecstatic.

Weird. He shrugs and opens the folder because what the hell; they might as well finish the dive off the deep end.

Gakushuu, on the other hand, gingerly takes the folder. He already feels the regret swelling up and stares grimly down at the document. He might as well be signing a contract with the devil here.

* * *

Gakushuu sighs and strolls out of the building. He must have been monopolizing and bankrupting his business rivals too much lately because isn't this why he met with karma? Figuratively and literally?

He frowns again. Akabane living up to his namesake is just another reason to detest him. He stops abruptly. Damn it. How could have he lost his composure and agreed to such a demented living arrangement?

Stressed. The stress from all the meetings this week must have gotten to him this week.

He sighs again. Yeah, he definitely feels stressed.

* * *

Karma scratches the back of his neck and wonders if he just did something too reckless, even for him. He's pretty sure that they just played a childish game of chicken back there, and with real estate no less.

He shrugs and continues walking out of the building. Oh well. At least the next few weeks should prove to be amusing. Messing with Asano has always been something akin to an extreme sport, exhilarating and precarious.

Karma grins then as he walks on with his hands in his pockets. Man, it's like they never grew up from high school.

* * *

**Time: 10** **th** **Day**

Gakushuu sighs as he turns the key and kicks open the door. A pink blur of fur swooshes towards him, and he neatly steps to the side, already have expected it.

He represses the urge to sigh again. It's rather fortunate that they are in the penthouse. God forbid, they had neighbors around to witness this. Akabane and he surely would have been on a first name basis with the police by now if that was the case.

Tapping a foot impatiently on the floor, he waits as the offending object, which Gakushu can now recognize as a giant stuffed pink monkey, swings more slowly back and forth before it dangles to a stop.

His eyes flick curiously towards the rope tied around the monkey in a makeshift harness and follow it as it loops along the bamboo divider towards the right. Gakushuu can see the soccer ball, the stool placed awkwardly in the middle of the entryway, and the trail of colored dominoes that follows behind it.

No doubt some type of ungodly Rube Goldberg contraption that Akabane had too much free time on his hands to set up.

He stares back down at the monkey who gazes back with gleaming glass blue eyes and a stitched happy grin. Its paws are tightly duct taped together in front of its chest to hold the small pocket knife in place, the blade pointing outwards.

Childlike innocence contrasted with homicidal tendencies. Gakushuu thinks wryly that the monkey is a mirror reflection of its owner.

There is a yellow post-it note slapped on the middle of its forehead with words scrawled in black sharpie: "Give up yet, Ace-kun? ＼(≧∇≦)/＼(≧∇≦)/ "

. . . Not surprisingly, the emoticons annoy him more than the words themselves. The whole thing is more of a taunt really than a legitimate threat. He and Akabane both know that it will take a lot more than a deranged stuffed animal to make him surrender.

Gakushuu sighs as he steps forward and works the knife out. With a flick of the wrists, he cuts cleanly through the rope. The monkey falls down with a soft thud, and Gakushuu stares down at it again for a moment before he shrugs and kicks it somewhere down the hallway outside.

It really is a blessing that they don't have any neighbors.

And that it's not a bucket of water this time.

He scowls briefly at the memory. That was entirely unpleasant, and he had responded with flooding Akabane's office with multiple reports of bankruptcy from nonexistent companies and banks.

To his satisfaction, Akabane had come back very late that night with a decidedly irritated expression after no doubt having to field questions all day.

Gakushuu smirks again. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. It's his self-mantra for this month.

It's a little surprising that Akabane has not done anything more drastic or infuriating yet. He did not even fight over the master bedroom and had immediately taken the guest bedroom without a second thought. Something about it being the room with the perfect vantage point for throwing water balloons at the unsuspecting pedestrians and annoying the tenants below them.

Although, because the original owners of the building were a frequently bickering, old married couple, the 'master' bedroom and the 'guest' room are built in the same size and proportions. It did not matter who got which room, and Gakushuu had only lifted an eyebrow at Akabane's explanation before taking the master bedroom without complaint.

In the past few years he has come to understand that there are some things in this world that cannot be explained, Akabane's psychotic mindset being one of them.

So, for the past week, while definitely annoying, Akabane's pranks have been mostly innocuous, ranging from eggs in his jackets, air horns in the shower stall, and pepper all over his files. There is a gleeful childishness to it that makes Gakushuu suspects Akabane is enjoying the chance to release all of his pent up mischief.

Gakushuu shrugs. He supposes he should take it as some sort of grace period.

He closes the door and carefully takes off his shoes only to frown as his eyes rove over the floor. Various shoes and sneakers litter the floor in some haphazard form of a minefield.

He narrows his eyes at the familiar sight because upon moving into the penthouse, he had quickly come to a realization.

Akabane is the messiest person he has ever had the misfortune to know.

It should not surprise him. Akabane is chaos incarnate, and it only makes sense that the wild recklessness bleeds into his surroundings as well.

But as Gakushuu surveys the area with an increasingly twitching eye, there is a difference between having a messy apartment and having a bloody hurricane decimate the place every goddamn day.

Gakushuu clenches his jaw as he stalks through the mess and turns around the black bamboo divider only to frown again at the ever increasing pile of clothes slung carelessly over the plush, cobalt blue sofa as he steps into the living room.

What _is_ this? How does someone not know what a closet is meant for in this day and age?

He toes a stray black tie lying half crumpled on the dark wooden floor before Gakushu scowls again. Unable to bear the sight any longer, he turns sharply to his left, past the staircase and into the dining room only to stop dead in his tracks.

His fingers tighten on the leather strap of the briefcase that he has yet to put down. He's just – just _speechless_.

There are papers and folders scattered all over the dining table like an impromptu tablecloth of white and manila yellow. He can't even _see_ the dark brown wood anymore. Wonderful. He adds 'filing cabinet' to the ever growing list of furniture and appliances that Akabane does not understand the functions of.

Gakushuu breathes out shortly in dismay and can already feel the headache building in his temples.

Or maybe it's the pulsing vein on the side of his forehead because as he turns and his eyes sweep over the toppling tower of pizza boxes and the confetti of empty chip bags on the kitchen island counter, Gakushuu does not understand anything anymore.

This isn't even a kitchen at this point. It's an exhibition for junk food abstract sculptures where Akabane showcases his useless talent for mixing the avant-garde with the style of the everyday hobo.

Why? Just…why?

Gakushuu leans against the doorway and rubs his temples in half incredulity and half irritation. The worst part of this is that Akabane is not even doing this on purpose. On the occasions that Akabane's messiness triggers the OCD he did not know he had, Gakushuu cleaned as best he could.

The end result?

Akabane nearly tearing apart the living room because 'where were the files that he placed next to the bento box on top of his blue jacket?'

Unbelievable. And even more unbelievable, why on earth is he still here? Why does he have to step into Ground Zero every time he walks through the damn door?

The disorder and sloppiness chafes him. Just seeing it is enough to make him stiffen in distaste. He cannot tolerate this.

Gakushuu furrows his eyebrows as he cringes at himself in sudden self-realization.

 _Why_ is he even tolerating it?

There are plenty of other perfectly suitable apartments. He does not need this apartment. They're in their mid-twenties, for god's sakes. He does not have time to be competing with some old school rival simply because he cannot stand the guy. Akabane is painfully insignificant in the whole grand scheme of things.

There are things Gakushuu still needs to do, like an empire to build, corporations to conquer, people to puppeteer, a world to rule, and whatnot. What is he competing here for?

Gakushuu shakes his head with a heavy frown. Done. He is done. Truly, what _has_ he been doing?

He straightens. That's right. This is all a regrettable lapse of judgement, something all too understandable for being near Akabane. Stupidity is contagious, after all. He's going to walk out of this apartment and never look back on this miserable week of –

Gakushu blinks as he finally spies the white calendar. It's the type where you tear out the page each day. The current page has the number **10** printed in big, black font, and the phrase " **DAYS UNTIL ASANO LOSES** " in smaller block letters.

He dimly registers the leather handle squeaking as he clenches his fingers. Familiar white hot irritation and rage swells through him, and all he sees is that phrase and Asano's trademark smirk burning into his retinas.

He takes it back. He takes it all back. He is not going to be bested by _Akabane_ , of all people. Not in school and not now either.

Gakushu pivots sharply and stalks out of the kitchen, violet eyes narrowing and lips thinning.

Leaving? The only way he's leaving this apartment before Akabane is in a body bag. And even then, very highly unlikely.

* * *

**Time: The next bloody morning because goddamn it,** _**who** _ **wakes up this early?**

Karma groans into his pillow as the unmistakable beep of the coffee machine floats into his room. He's not even sure how the sound can penetrate though the door much less travel up to the second floor where the bedrooms are, but it does.

Since he moved in, the coffee machine has steadily inched its way to the top of his shit list.

. . . Or maybe that should be Asano because wasn't he the one who bought the coffee machine?

He growls and snaps his eyes open to stare accusingly at his alarm clock.

5:30 am.

Goddamn it.

And people have the audacity to tell Karma that he's the devil when who's waking who here at this ungodly hour?

Inhuman. Asano is inhuman. The guy is in charge of his own company, so Karma _knows_ that he can wake up any time, and the fact that Asano still _willingly_ wakes this early in the morning is – is – He's so sleep deprived he can't even think of the proper word to describe Asano's demented sleeping patterns.

Wait, demented. There we go. Demented. Asano is demented; his stupid coffee machine is demented; and his sleeping patterns are demented. Demented.

Karma frowns and closes his eyes again. Before he leaves for work today, he's going to do an impromptu gravity experiment, once that involves the window, his favorite baseball bat, and the insufferable coffee machine.

Karma nods to himself and turns decidedly into his pillow. Before he can even entertain the thought of sleeping though, a sudden loud rumble whirs through the air. Karma crinkles his eyebrows in irritation. What the hell is that?

He cranes his ears and fixates on the sound. Is that. . . His eyes slowly blink open in disbelief. Is Asano seriously doing his laundry? Right now? At 5:30 am?

The distinct rumbling of the washing machine echoes through the air again, and Karma seriously cannot understand for the life of him how Asano can pass for anything but insane.

Only Asano could have this hellish of a morning routine.

He groans aloud in pure frustration and glares darkly at the door. Asano is doing this on purpose, isn't he? There is no way that Karma has spent all this time, years even competing against someone who likes doing their laundry at 5:30 in the morning.

No, this has to be some twisted form of passive aggressiveness. Retaliation for his pranks this week. He would not put it past Asano to purposefully alter his sleeping patterns just for the added bonus of also disturbing Karma's.

Karma grumbles incoherently under his breath as he sits up. A wave of vertigo crashes over him and almost slams him back down on the bed. He has to blink for several seconds to clear the rain of iridescent green dots that bombard his vision, and even then, the room still spins in fuzzy shades of gray.

Damn it.

With his temples throbbing and the sluggishness of sleep still deadening his limbs, Karma gathers the comforter around him as he steps onto the floor. He immediately winces as the coldness of the wooden floor seeps through his socks.

God, he is more than ready to shove Asano, the coffee machine, and the washing machine all out the window. That gravity experiment will proceed earlier than planned.

After some fumbles and near trips, Karma somehow trudges down the stairs without a concussion and turns to his left into the dining room. He squints blearily ahead.

Asano is sitting at the dining table, calmly sipping his cup of coffee in one hand and reading the morning newspaper in the other. Karma did not even _know_ that they delivered papers this early. But, more importantly, Asano looks so at ease and comfortable, as if waking up at _five thirty_ in the morning is somehow normal. It sends Karma seething in irritation and his fingers twitching with the undeniable urge to wipe that expression off.

Or well, it does for five minutes until the hot rush of blood that surges along with his irritation gives him another throbbing headache.

Karma stifles another pained groan, and screw it. Arguing with Asano requires more energy than he's willing to spend. He wants to go back to sleep, back to his warm bed and his fluffy pillows and - god, yes, that sounds like a fantastic idea.

There is a soft clink of china against the table before Asano observes calmly, eyes still on the newspaper and fingers turning the page, "You're up early for once."

Eyelids already heavy with drowsiness again, Karma tugs the comforter closer to him and asks unhappily, voice still raspy with sleep. "What are you doing?"

Gakushuu glances at him, eyebrow lifting at Karma's disheveled appearance. His hair is tousled, strands of red hair sticking up wildly in whichever direction, and red sleeping lines are etched on his left cheek. With the black comforter draped over his shoulders and drowsiness still clinging to him, Akabane looks remarkably like a child who has been nagged out of bed, complete with the petulant expression creasing his features.

He was expecting a more….violent reaction. Still, this is not so bad either. It's a different side of Akabane, which admittedly is fascinating to see, but more than that, it's rare to catch Akabane so unaware like this.

Gakushuu represses an amused smirk and instead remarks patronizingly, "What does it look like I'm doing? You're not at your best in the morning, are you?"

Akabane blinks uncomprehendingly at him and says slowly, a note of incredulity and exasperation in his tone, "Asano, it's five…" He stops and turns to squint at the clock before finishing wearily, "Forty-five."

Asano makes a non-committal sound and flips the page once again. "It is."

"In the morning," Karma purposefully drags out the syllables because what does Asano not get about this? He does not wake up at five. No one wakes up at five. Asano should just get with the program and not wake up at five. Why is this so hard to understand?

Asano still does not look at him, choosing instead to continue perusing the paper. If Karma had the energy to, he probably would have shot a rubber band through the stupid newspaper already. As it stands now, he settles for glaring at it and mentally visualizing stabbing it and its unreasonable owner.

To his disappointment, the paper does not spontaneously combust and Asano only answers dryly, "How observant of you, Akabane."

Irritated now, Karma tilts his head with a smile a little too wide to be safe, "Ne, tell me the truth. Is this a cry for help? Do you want me to call the mental asylum and reserve a place for you? It's inconsiderate to interrupt the pleasant dreams the rest of us are having just because you feel the need to express your insanity, Asano-kun."

Asano skims the page and responds placidly, "It may surprise you, but there are people who do wake up in the morning instead of the afternoon. You haven't heard the phrase: The early bird catches the worm?"

It's irritating, no, insulting that Asano looks so peaceful reading the newspaper, legs crossed and already immaculately dressed in another matching suit and tie, when Karma is still feeling very much sleep deprived. The casual suaveness reminds Karma of the actors in those nauseatingly perky coffee commercials, and when Asano takes another sip of his coffee, Karma's expression flattens.

"What worms are you catching? They're all asleep, Ace-kun. The only thing you're catching is a cold. Ok? Don't subject the rest of us to your nonexistent sleeping patter - " He stops abruptly as something metal jangles and clinks noisily as it runs through the washing machine. Karma frowns and asks, clear exasperation in his tone, "Why is the washing machine on?"

Asano finally puts down the blasted paper and lifts an eyebrow. There is an exasperated resignation in his eyes that Karma thinks is entirely unwarranted because seriously, who woke up who here?

"You know, I've noticed you are disturbingly ignorant on the uses of modern day appliances. Do you need me to go over them? The washing machine is, as its name implies, a machine for washing clothes."

Karma ignores the comment and in an equally condescending tone, he asks pointedly, "And, why are you washing clothes right now?"

"Because I have the time to," Asano says simply.

Karma blinks at him for several moments before he decides Asano is a lost cause. He's wasting his time reasoning with a crazy person.

He immediately stalks past Asano and into the kitchen towards the walk in space to the left where the washing machine and drying machine is. He calls out over his shoulder, "I'm turning it off. You're clearly too sleep deprived to see how abnormal everything you are doing right now is. I feel sorry for your poor employees who have to deal with such an unreasonable bos – Where is the stop button?"

Unbelievable. What the hell is this? Karma pauses, eyes quickly scanning the multitude of buttons and dials, all with numbers and various labels. Why the hell would anyone need a control pad to do their laundry? He only wants to turn off the annoying scrap of metal, not launch a rocket into space.

Karma stares at the buttons for another moment before he murmurs helplessly, "Why are all of your dumb appliances so demented?"

"You really are not a morning person," Asano notes as he walks up from behind him.

"And you're clearly not human," Karma counters as he stares fixatedly at the washing machine. He can just throw it out, right? Who needs the power button when he can shove it out the window and be done with everything?

"Also, I did not purchase that washing machine. It came with the penthouse," Asano comments casually, and Karma wonders if he can get away with murdering his insane roommate and plead self-defense.

"That's nice, Ace-kun. So enlightening to hear that this infernal trap was already here. Say, can Ace-kun exercise his ever so comprehensive knowledge and turn this off?" Karma drawls, the words practically saturated in sarcasm.

"I refuse."

Karma's head snaps back, golden eyes unknowingly gleaming in warning even as he hums, "Oh? Really? You're not going to turn off the machine?"

To Gakushuu's surprise, Akabane suddenly strides past him and out of the kitchen. He glances at the comforter Akabane dropped and fights back a smirk as he picks it up to place it on top of the dryer.

This is far more entertaining than he could have ever hoped for.

Loud, punctuated footsteps come closer. Gakushuu spares a moment to pity the tenants down below before he looks up to see Akabane swinging a fire poker haphazardly in one hand. He pauses and asks warily, "What are you doing?"

A shit-eating grin stretches across Akabane's face, his golden eyes ignited with reckless giddiness. He twirls the fire poker and declares brazenly, "Stopping the washing machine in the traditional way."

Gakushuu stares at him before frowning. "What traditional way is that? The yakuza's?"

Akabane cocks his head and shrugs, "You did not want to turn it off, so what choice do I have?"

He steps back and holds the fire poker as he would a golf club. Karma grins – He's more than ready to smash something if only just to relieve his irritation of this morning, and honestly, Asano deserves it for being such a jackass - and is about to slam it into the washing machine when Asano suddenly voices aloud, "Are you sure you want me to? It's your clothes in there."

Karma furrows his eyebrows and immediately jerks the poker back. His eyes flick to Asano and he asks bewildered, "Wait, what? Why are you washing my clothes?"

Asano shrugs as he leans against the dryer. "Because they were cluttering the living room."

Karma blinks, eyes flicking to the washing machine and back to Asano. He asks blankly, "You're washing all of them?"

Shit. Did he leave his blazer out on the sofa last night? He needs it for today's meeting. Does he have another clean one in his closet?

. . . No, probably not, considering that he still has not done any laundry since moving in.

Karma bites back a growl and glances in irritation at Asano. Asano definitely has a petty streak. Is this retaliation for his pranks?

Asano raises an eyebrow and comments casually, "What's the matter? Did you run out of clean clothes?" He nods towards the washing machine and continues serenely, as if he wasn't the one who threw all of Karma's clothes unnecessarily into the washing machine, "You should let the washing machine finish then, so you have time to use the dryer."

Karma idly taps the fire poker against his foot and asks nonchalantly even as he runs through all the possible ways he can exact his revenge later, "Why were you cleaning up the living room?"

He does not miss the irritation flickering in Asano's eyes as Asano comments a little sourly, "A better question is why you haven't."

Karma smirks as he croons, eyes deceptively wide in false concern, "Oh? If my messy habits are triggering your OCD, you're free to move out. I'd be deeply concerned if I drove you to a mental breakdown."

Asano's eye twitches slightly, but he smiles and offers just as pleasantly, "The same goes for you. If my sleeping patterns are disturbing your sleep, you can leave. I would hate for you to fall asleep on the job and find yourself demoted."

They stare at each other, matching smiles increasingly erring on the side of psychotic until Asano asks smoothly, "Would you like me to teach you how to use the dryer?"

Given how Asano told him absolutely nothing about the washing machine, Karma does not see what he could possibly gain from Asano explaining jack shit again. Still, the already patronizing smugness radiating from Asano digs under his skin, and Karma is nothing but unpredictable.

He plops straight down in front of the two stupid machines. The fire poker clatters noisily to the floor. Cross-legged, Karma waves a hand carelessly in the air to drawl, "Go ahead, Ace-kun. Do you want me to take notes while you give out your inspiring lecture?"

Karma can see out of the corner of his eye that Asano is taken aback, not having expected him to actually take the offer. Asano recovers quickly though, as always, and says coolly, "You should. Your attention span seems rather short in the morning."

He points towards one of the buttons and explains, a bit more seriously than he intended because the scenario of Akabane pressing buttons randomly and causing the dryer to explode is a painfully real possibility now that he thinks about it, "This button is for temperature. Turn the dial for specific settings. You can also use it for different dry cycles depending on the fabric or you can press this button and change the timing of the cycle too. This button is for the - "

"Is this seriously that complicated?" Karma asks, all previous playfulness gone for genuine bewilderment. He surveys the dryer with a frown before glancing at Asano and commenting dryly, "Ace-kun, you should know that if your teaching method fails here, I'm going to press random buttons and make you share the risk of burning down this penthouse with me."

Gakushuu stares back blankly. He hadn't thought Akabane was this clueless on household appliances, and wonderful, now he really _can_ imagine the penthouse going up in flames. He says aloud, voice stark with disbelief, "I'm seriously questioning your mental state right now. Are you this sleep deprived or have you not used a dryer before?"

Karma shrugs. "I have. It had three buttons." He raises three fingers and lists them off airily, "High, medium, and low heat."

"Well, unfortunately, this one does not." Asano rubs his face wearily and Karma would have smirked in satisfaction – because, seriously this is all Asano's fault - if it isn't for the fact that he still has no idea how to use the dryer.

Gakushuu, on the other hand, wonders just exactly how his ploy has ended in him lecturing Akabane on laundry. He sighs. "I think you need notes."

Akabane only stares at the machine vacantly and murmurs, "No, I need to sleep and less demented appliances."

Gakushuu glances at his watch – 6:30? This is taking longer than he expected - and comments absentmindedly, "Stop talking as if the appliances have a life of their own."

"Asano."

Gakushuu looks back up only to stiffen when he finds Akabane suddenly standing in front of him, mere inches away, with wide eyes and furrowed eyebrows.

It's a bit . . . disarming how well Akabane manages to look innocent.

Gakushuu leans back, slightly unnerved, and asks warily, "What?"

Akabane scrutinizes him for a moment before he sighs and asks petulantly, "Can you just do it for me?"

Gakushuu blinks and echoes again blankly, "What?"

Akabane looks as if he's reconsidering Gakushuu's mentality again and says deliberately slowly, "The dryer."

The what? Gakushuu raises an eyebrow and comments flatly, "I don't remember agreeing to be your personal maid."

"You cleaned the living room," Akabane says matter-of-factly.

"Because I also use it," Gakushuu retorts, finally letting his irritation show. He narrows his eyes and rebukes, "You realize that it's not your personal closet, right? Or do you also want me to explain what a closet is for too?"

Karma is about to counter when he pauses with realization. Closet? He hums, his usual lazy smile back again, "You're right."

Asano furrows his eyebrows at the easy agreement. "What do you mean by that?"

Akabane shrugs as he reaches for the comforter and drapes it around himself again. He saunters out and calls out behind his shoulder, "I'll just borrow a shirt from you. That's much more convenient."

"Convenient for who?" Gakushuu demands as he follows after Akabane out of the kitchen into the dining room again. He frowns heavily and adds, "Don't step into my room."

"Sure, sure." Akabane waves one hand dismissively in the air and uses the other to stifle a yawn.

Gakushuu can already tell Akabane is already thinking of going back to sleep. He sighs and sits back in his seat. "Just do your laundry, Akabane."

Karma makes a noncommittal sound and comments idly, "Don't be so stingy. It's just a shirt. Or two." He yawns again, eyes flicking blearily over the dining table as he passes it. God, this took longer than he wanted it to be. Time to go back to sleep and away from – Wait.

"Where are my folders?" Karma observes aloud as he stops abruptly and does a double take. Files, files….He was doing paperwork last night, and he remembers distinctly laying out the documents and reports. His eyes sweep over the dining table once more, and cold dread slithers through him. Goddamn it.

Karma immediately swivels his head towards Asano, who only peruses the newspaper once more and murmurs without looking up, "Hmm?"

Completely awake now, Karma taps his fingers erratically on the table as he enunciates slowly. "My folders. The ones on the table."

He grits his teeth. He does not know who he's more mad at, Asano or himself because seriously, how could have he been so careless? Leaving actual paperwork like that out in the open. . . Even Karma would have cackled in delight at the easy prey.

Shit. He really is too used to living by himself. He never had to worry about organizing all of his crap before.

Asano, however, only turns the page and says disinterestedly, "I don't recall."

No, he's definitely more irritated at Asano.

Karma's lips hike up into a dangerous smirk and his voice dips warningly, "I didn't know your OCD was this bad. Don't you think you're going too far with your cleaning? Where did you put my files?"

Gakushuu glances at him discreetly from behind the newspaper, noting the serious edge in Akabane's tone for once. Akabane's eyes gleam sharply, and he can see the threat of destruction brimming in them. He hides a pleased smirk and feigns ignorance, "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"As-a-no – kun," Akabane punctuates each syllable with a sharp tap on the dining table, the lilting cadence in his tone dark and low. "Is your eyesight so bad that you can't even distinguish from paperwork from trash? Should I buy more carrots and Vitamin A supplements to help you?"

Gakushuu deliberately widens his eyes and realizes aloud, "Oh dear. The stacks of pizza boxes and junk food wrappers must have covered your documents. I just assumed that after counting four layers of empty noodle cups that everything under them must have been trash as well."

"What?" Karma widens his eyes and glances back at the table. Trash? Then his documents are. . .

Gakushuu leans back in his chair and continues casually, "You should run. They incinerate the trash from the chute at seven."

Karma glances at the clock and stiffens. Shit. It's already 6:45. His eye twitches at the satisfied expression in Asano's eyes. The arrogant triumph seeping from Asano's false sympathetic smile sends his adrenaline spiking and destructive impulses surging through. He strides quickly away and comments with irritation, "Spiteful is not a flattering look, Asano."

"If I wanted to be spiteful, I would have thrown everything in the fireplace."

Karma spares a glare towards the dining room before he stalks through the living room and retorts, voice acerbic with sarcasm, "That's nice, Ace-kun. I'm so thankful right now for your unique definition of charit – Where the hell are my shoes?"

Karma stares at the step just before the door, eyes sweeping the bare floor in incredulity. Just how enthusiastic was Asano in cleaning the house? He clenches his fingers and turns his head back.

Asano ambles out then and leans against the sofa. He raises an eyebrow with all the tranquility that Karma does not feel right now and remarks, "It's a little early to be polluting the air with profanity."

" _Asano_."

Judging by the manic grin and the violence flaring wildly in Akabane's eyes, Gakushuu wisely decides not to tease him anymore. He instead shrugs and elaborates, "I didn't throw them away, if that's what you're thinking. I did not have enough trash bags for them." Akabane's expression immediately darkens at that but Gakushuu only nods towards his left, "Open the side closet door. You'll see something called a shoe rack."

Akabane nearly tears the closet door off its hinges as he roughly grabs a pair of sneakers and shoves his feet in. Wrenching open the door, he strides out. The black comforter flares out behind like a war banner before it flutters to the floor and the door slams shut.

Gakushuu pities the garbage workers because he seriously might have unleashed a demon on them. Still. . . Gakushuu props his elbow on the sofa and covers his growing smile with a hand.

That was brilliant, cutting a little close timewise, but delightfully brilliant. Akabane's look when he realized Gakushuu threw away his documents flits through his head once more, eyes bolting open in genuine surprise and dismay…the troubled, almost pleading expression during the explanation of the dryer…or even when Akabane trudged down sleepily with half open eyes and an unhappy scowl….

He did not expect to see such expressions from Akabane, see those emotions so unfiltered for once. It reminds him of a kid really.

He chuckles aloud in satisfaction. It's a little fascinating, to be honest.

* * *

It only takes a well-placed insane grin for the garbage disposal workers to meekly back off and leave him alone to finish his search. It takes another thirty bags for Karma to finally find his files. He'll be thankful later that Asano at least had the heart to place them in a clean bag devoid of actual trash, but right now?

He's currently going through all the possible ways he can assassinate Asano without being caught.

* * *

Asano is not all that surprised to find that his clothes are missing when he comes home. He is not as irritated as he normally would be though. Replacing his wardrobe is a small price to pay for Akabane's reactions this morning.

His amusement unfortunately only lasts so long as the next afternoon.

Before he gives a presentation to some important investors, Gakushuu finds that Akabane has translated all of his notes into emoticons and somehow inserted some less than decent pictures into his PowerPoint slides.

It takes pure willpower and the sheer force of his charisma to downplay the entire situation.

And once again, Gakushuu asks himself on the merits of competing for a penthouse that he does not even want.

* * *

It is not until three days later when Karma drops some files into one of the drawers in his desk that he finally realizes that he has been subtly manipulated.

Because while Asano is still waking up far earlier than Karma would deem sane, he also has not woken up at five in the morning anymore either. And after that enlightening trip to the garbage room, Karma is not too keen on leaving his clothes or shoes out in the open anymore. So he finds himself taking the extra step to hand his jacket on a hanger and throw the wrappers into the trashcan to discourage Asano's extreme spring cleaning tendencies.

But, really, isn't this just Asano's way of forcing him to be neater without outright nagging?

His lips curve into a delighted grin, and Karma chuckles aloud, breathless with the realization.

Granted, he's a little amused that Asano would go that far, but more than that, he's kind of impressed.

Sure, he still does not care for the penthouse. There's a lot of negative space here that he could do without, and the furniture still seems too fragile for his liking.

But, sparring with Asano really is entertaining. Something that keeps him on his toes and requires more than pie charts and sly negotiations to win.

* * *

**Time: 1 week after**

Karma honestly forgets about the dye.

So, when Asano storms into the kitchen in nothing but a white towel slung around his hips and wet strands of bright pink hair plastered to his forehead, his eyes widen and Karma immediately chokes on his strawberry juice.

He blinks uncomprehendingly at Asano before Karma stares down at the juice box in his hand and wonders if he ingested some hallucinogenic drugs. It takes an embarrassing extra three seconds for Sunday's grocery list to float through his mind.

Ah, that's right. The hair dye.

There's a snarl, a blur of movement and suddenly the sharp musk of an unnamed body wash wraps around him. It makes him feel almost dizzy and Karma blinks again as he finds his back slammed against the fridge. Asano looks absolutely livid, eyebrows creased and sharp violet eyes narrowed.

Karma can almost see the killing intent curling off Asano's frame in roiling black flames, and his lips automatically curve upwards in anticipation at the sight. Perfect. Asano presses forward as he thunders out, voice darkened with anger, "Care to explain?"

"Explain what?" Karma asks innocently and grins, deliberately going lax instead of breaking away. Asano notices and Karma can see his eye twitching at the nonchalance. He inwardly snickers because Asano losing his temper is always priceless.

The hair dye was an excellent decision and Karma hums again, "Actually, shouldn't you be the one to explain?" He tilts his head and smiles tauntingly, "Or is walking in a towel a new habit of yours? I didn't know you were such an exhibitionist."

Asano's eyes darken to a shade of poisonous purple and if looks could kill, Karma thinks he probably would be melting in a puddle of acid. As it is, he only offers another sweet grin that does nothing to abate Asano's growing temper.

Asano growls and shoves him again as he hisses, "Akabane, what did you _do_?"

Karma ignores the cold metal of the fridge seeping through his shirt as Asano tightens his grip on his shoulders and presses even closer. Instead, he lifts an eyebrow and says lightly, "Do what?"

"This!" Asano roars, violet eyes swirling with barely repressed fury. Asano is the type that prefers schemes and spinning spider webs in the background to using brute force, so the fact that Asano looks like he's about to grab the nearest kitchen knife and commit murder says volumes about his anger.

Not that it deters Karma. He is the type that sees the "Do not trespass" sign but treats it as the x-mark for treasure than the warning it's supposed to be. Instead of backing down, he surveys Asano briefly and offers idly, "Whatever do you mean? You look as charismatic as ever."

" _Akabane_." Asano's voice drops down to nothing more than a harsh growl, and Karma vaguely notes that Asano's voice sounds deeper than it did before in the past.

Still, he _is_ telling the truth. Karma scrutinizes Asano once more and huh.

Because now that Asano is this close, Karma can see, as irritating as it is, that Asano, in some inexplicable way, manages to pull the color off.

Maybe it's because of his strawberry blond hair or the several rinses of shampoo Asano no doubt must have done, but the shade is a lighter bright bubblegum than Karma originally intended. Karma was going for the dark neon pink so unnervingly bright that Asano's head looks like it's on fire sort of look.

As it stands now, Asano looks like someone experimenting with today's current rainbow colored hair, just without the sparkling unicorns and the er, consent.

In fact, the color infuriatingly complements Asano's skin and emphasizes the violet hues in his eyes, shifting them from their usual silvery violet to pure amethyst.

Karma hides his disappointed frown. Maybe he should have gone for the neon green hair dye, after all.

Gakushuu narrows his eyes. Dead. Akabane is dead. He can already see the headlines in the newspaper: 'Roommate found Strangled to Death'

God, just thinking about it….that blaring pink shade of hair that greeted his reflection in the mirror….

He can't believe it. His hair is _pink_. _Pink_.

Rage rakes its claws over his skin, blood drumming loudly in his ears in white-hot flashes. Dead. So dead.

He can plead for mental insanity in the courtroom, can't he? Anyone who understands Akabane's personality would understand. He growls, fingers tightening even more, " _Akabane_. Are you _listening_ to me?"

Karma focuses back on Asano and feigns ignorance, "Of course. What's wrong?"

Karma instinctively knows that it's the wrong thing to say; it's why he said it after all. And he's simultaneously pleased and apprehensive when Asano's lips curve upwards in a pleasant smile that does not quite match up with the homicidal glint in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" Asano asks slowly, the cadence of his voice low and deceptively smooth. The sound glides across Karma's skin at this proximity and has him tensing in wariness out of reflex. Asano presses even closer and Karma still keeps his light grin in place even though he's starting to feel the handle of the fridge pressing unforgivingly against his shoulder blade.

"What's wrong is that you put hair dye in my shampoo," Asano continues in that same tone and presses forward closer with each slow, enunciated word.

Karma blinks slightly at the sudden proximity. He can feel the warmth of Asano's solid frame pressing against him, and hmm, aren't they too close right now?

But Asano does not seem to notice and looks more enraged with every word, "What's wrong is that my hair is _pink_. What's _wrong_ is your apparent sanity and eyesight."

There is barely an inch between them now, and Karma's eyes flick down to catch the still glistening expanse of skin. It's a little off-putting that Asano looks...so disheveled. Asano standing in the kitchen in nothing but a towel therefore feels almost surreal, to be honest.

An odd twinge of discomfort runs through him when Asano presses impossibly even closer and intones darkly, still incensed over his spontaneous hair color change, "Tell me, Akabane, do you need help correcting your vision? I can arrange for an impromptu Lasik surgery this very instant."

Karma raises an eyebrow at that. Lasik surgery is a euphemism for gouging his eyes with the nearest teaspoon, and he automatically grins. Only Asano could manage to croon out death threats like this. Amused, Karma drawls, "I think I'll stick with eating carrots."

Asano gives him a deeply murderous glare and Karma is about to comment on how killing him would not hold up so well in court when the crisp smell of aftershave wafts up and invades his senses. Karma wrinkles his nose and notices again how Asano is practically on top of him now. The proximity is starting to make him feel antsy, restless.

He frowns slightly and adds, "Also, Asano, don't you think you're a bit too close?"

Still vexed, Asano growls, "What?"

He could have played it off, do his usual taunts and whatnot. In fact, Karma's pretty sure there's a multitude of exhibitionist and sexual harassment jokes to be made here, but the scent of Asano's body wash is overwhelming in a way that makes his skin itch, even more so when the restlessness thrums through his veins like it usually does when he's about to blow off steam in a fight.

And when Asano still does not move and Karma can feel the warm breath hovering over his skin, the solid heat radiating outwards from Asano, he suddenly feels claustrophobic, the sensation writhing uncomfortably under his skin. Reflexively, he reaches out to grab Asano's arm and pushes him aside so he can slip out.

Gakushuu blinks, surprised at the sudden movement, but irritated more than anything because it only shows how Akabane was deliberately letting him hold him down. He turns to retort scathingly, but stops at the odd disconcerted expression in Akabane's eye. It flits across briefly though, and Akabane's usual lazy grin returns.

He suddenly presses something in Gakushuu's hand and explains with a condescending drawl, "There's something called personal space, you know."

Gakushuu stares back uncomprehendingly before he looks down at his hand. It's Akabane's stupid juice box.

His eye twitches and before Gakushuu can remind Akabane on the functions of a trashcan – and does he want a demonstration of said functions? - Akabane is already sauntering out of the kitchen and calling out over his shoulder with a grin, "And I don't know why you're so outraged. You can retire as a CEO and try your luck being an idol now. I'm sure with your popularity, Ace-kun, it will be a successful career change!"

Gakushuu barely registers the cool liquid suddenly dripping over his hand as his hand tightens into a fist. He's too busy staring at Akabane's distant back and visualizing once again the various murder scenes he can get away with.

He can't believe Akabane has the goddamned nerve to go and put hair dye in his shampoo. And to choose _pink_ out of all colors.

Akabane seriously either has a death wish or he's more of a five year old than Gakushuu gives him credit for.

He narrows his eyes and is about to fling the damn juice box into the recycling bin when he pauses and glances at the crushed juice box in his hand.

Strawberry juice. Didn't Akabane used to drink this in school? Gakushuu thinks back on all the times he's seen Akabane drink it since moving into the penthouse. It's….surprisingly a lot.

Huh.

* * *

Karma furrows his eyebrows and flexes his fingers idly. It's his win. It is. He glances at the door. So why does it feel that he didn't have the upper hand during that conversation at all?

He shrugs and leans back in his chair, feet propped against the desk. He's thinking too much. He did spend a good portion of his school years trying to assassinate Koro-sensei and the other portion being a troublemaker delinquent, so he's had a good share of fights. It's probably instinct now to not let someone stand so close to you.

Well, whatever. A point is a point, and Asano's reaction was as entertaining as he expected and more.

Karma smirks and hums. Now, how will Asano retaliate?

* * *

Yumiko crosses her legs gracefully and swipes a perfect lavender manicured nail across the tablet's screen. Hmm. Twelve o'clock brunch with two important investors. Two o'clock meeting with the advertising department. Four o'clock meeting with the board.

Busy day as usual, then. She glances at the time and blinks in surprise. Almost nine. Strange. The president always comes in punctually at eight in the morning. Should she call the driver?

As if on cue, the glass doors to the office immediately swings open and Asano strides through. Yumiko immediately stands up and turns, lips curved in an indulgent smile before it immediately falters and her gray eyes widen in shock.

…Is she dreaming?

She blinks. The blur of bright pink greets her eyes again and she stares at it thoroughly dumbfounded. The president's hair is pink. Pink. As in pink like the shade of lipstick she has on. Yumiko blinks again.

…This is the president, right?

But no, there is no else with those colored eyes and that distinct charismatic aura. Yumiko pauses and surveys Asano warily. He's dressed impeccably as always, but his entire outfit is in black for the first time. Black leather shoes, black tie, black collared shirt, black suit. It looks striking on him, even more so because of its sharp contrast with the new hair color.

…It also conjures up a picture of the Grim Reaper because Yumiko recognizes that sharp glint in the president's eyes and the briskness in his pace. He is definitely on the warpath again.

She pities the company he has set his sights on today, but frankly, she pities herself more because Yumiko can already picture the paperwork waiting for her by the end of today.

Great, there goes her dinner reservation for tonight.

Asano smoothly settles into his leather chair and offers his usual benevolent smile, "Good morning."

"Good… morning, president," Yumiko offers hesitantly despite herself, eyes flicking over the president once more. He looks stunningly handsome like this, more so than usual even. The all dark attire lends him a dangerous edge, only emphasized by the bold shade of hair. Something grittier that reflects more accurately the razor sharp, ruthless business sense that his usual crisp navy and neutral tones conceals.

Damn it. She really wants to know, well, the reason for this abrupt image change.

She bites her lips before she squashes her curiosity with valiant effort and lets her features smooth out once more in professionalism. Curiosity did kill the cat and all.

So instead, Yumiko continues in her usual serene tones, "For today's agenda, you have a twelve o'clock -"

"Brunch?" Asano says idly as he looks through the files on his desk. "I remember." He pauses and looks back at her. "I need you to look into something for me."

She blinks but nods with a smile. "Of course. What is it?" He slides across his desk a pink and white carton. She reaches out and picks it up with curiosity, eyes scanning the label. Yumiko furrows her eyebrows. Isn't this – "Juice?" she wonders aloud.

What on earth? Yumiko pauses. Does drinking strawberry juice somehow change one's hair color? She eyes the carton and glances back at Asano. Interesting. They're both pink… Is that why the president wants her to research this?

She frowns slightly. Exactly what kind of artificial supplements are companies putting into food nowadays?

Asano nods and continue succinctly, "Find the company that owns and manufactures this product. Look into their stock numbers as well."

Stock numbers? This is the target company of the week?

Her eyes flick to him and back to the juice carton. She remembers seeing this brand before in some of the local supermarkets and vending machines. It's popular, but it's more of a local favorite than a national brand. Surely, this is not worth the aggressive attack much less the investigation.

"…Of course." Yumiko raises an eyebrow and asks curiously, "And ah, what exactly are our plans towards this company, president?"

"We're taking it over, of course," Asano reveals lowly, eyes gleaming a vivid purple and lips curving into a deeply satisfied smirk. Yumiko gets the feeling that this might have something to do with a personal grudge or two here, judging from the darkening expression.

The expression also overwhelms her slightly and she vaguely thinks that if someone added a throne, some rising smoke, and a random pop rock song in the background, it'd be less of a corporate setting and more of a k-pop music video sort of vibe and – oh. Huh.

She clears her throat and hides an amused grin, "I see."

Yumiko strides back to her desk, fingers already tapping on the tablet. She sneaks another glance at Asano and hums. The president looks surprisingly good with pink hair, which honestly is the only thing that keeps her fascinated enough to not complain when Yumiko discovers that Asano is surprisingly dead-set on acquiring that beverage company and she really does have to cancel that dinner reservation to indulge his whims.

* * *

Karma does not think much of it the first time that it happens, but when the eighth vending machine of the day does not have the strawberry drink that he wants and it has already been four days without his drink, he's, well, still not giving it a second thought.

He's just incredibly pissed off. Although to be honest, that's been his default mood for the entire week because of a certain asshole who has been stubbornly waking up at 5am in the morning with an increasingly psychotic routine.

Who in the right mind vacuums the goddamned carpet at _five_ in the morning? Seriously, who?

Grumbling darkly under his breath, Karma scowls and taps the vending machine increasingly harder, not even registering the wary looks of the mother and child on the bench next to him.

God, Asano and all of his household appliances are just _demented_.

* * *

It's only when he visits two supermarkets to purchase the drink directly and they tell him that the drink has been mysteriously recalled and discontinued for the moment that Karma finally realizes something is wrong.

Or rather that this clearly is sabotage.

Karma pauses and frowns. No way. This is Asano's retaliation?

He digs for the phone in his pocket and leans down in front of the beverage shelves, grabbing a grape carton of the same brand. Scanning it for the company's information, Karma quickly jabs in the listed phone number.

Ring. Ring.

"Hello. You have reached Customer's Service. How may I help you?"

"I have a question about one of your products…."

* * *

"How could you?"

Gakushuu blinks and stares as Akabane suddenly rushes into the kitchen. His eyebrows are furrowed and Akabane's usual smirk is replaced with a disappointed frown. Just like that, any smugness or satisfaction that Gakushuu might feel quickly dissipates because what the hell? Where does Akabane get the gall to look like he has been personally victimized?

With his eye twitching, Gakushuu does not even bother feigning ignorance and instead retorts incredulously, "How could _I_? You dyed my hair pink!"

Akabane only frowns again and leans over the island counter as he argues, "What I did to you wasn't this extreme!"

"My. Hair. Is. Pink," Gakushuu enunciates slowly and glowers at Akabane for good measure. Repressing an irritated growl, he picks up the lettuce from the island counter and stalks over to the sink.

He should not even have to explain this. His hair is pink, and Akabane losing his favorite drink is clearly the more trivial consequence of the two.

"Real men wear pink!"

Scrick!

Gakushuu's jaw clenches and he looks balefully down at the lettuce he just ripped into two ragged halves. Gritting his teeth and repressing the overwhelming urge to stab Akabane with the nearest silverware, he says tightly, "Thank you for your enlightening definition of masculinity."

"It's only a temporary dye. See?" Gakushuu frowns and turns around to see Akabane waving the dye bottle he presumably used. Akabane flips the back of the bottle and reads aloud, "It only lasts for…"

Karma pauses, eyes widening despite himself. He clears his throat and offers, "Er, six to nine weeks?"

Karma frowns at the bottle. Huh. Maybe he should have read the bottle more carefully because damn it, six weeks?

Asano stares at him for a moment and then deadpans, "Akabane, do me a favor. Go die. Preferably somewhere not here. Explaining your stupidity to the police would be time consuming."

Karma glances back at Asano, unsurprised to find him once again facing the sink, back rigid with undeniable irritation. There is another loud squeaky rip and Karma thinks vaguely that it would be easier to throw the lettuce in the shredder, judging by the way Asano is viciously tearing it apart.

Karma watches him for a couple moments before he sighs and says resignedly, "I'm sorry, ok?"

Gakushuu pauses then, a bit surprised at the uncharacteristic apology. He places down the lettuce and turns around to survey Akabane curiously. "Are you that addicted to strawberry juice? You really love that brand."

Akabane frowns slightly before he crosses his arms and leans back in the stool, commenting, "You know, don't you think you're overreacting? You're forcing a company to stop selling its best product because I gave you a harmless make- over."

Gakushuu's lips twitch upwards at the hint of annoyance in Karma's eyes and turns back around to remark idly, "They sell other products too, you know. I hear their lemonade is also popular."

Akabane makes a noncommittal noise as he begins tapping absentmindedly on the counter and says nonchalantly, "How long is this ban going to last, Ace-kun? Forever?"

"Of course not. I'm a fair person." Gakushuu turns his head back, lips curving into a smirk, as he adds, "It will be only until my hair is no longer pink."

Karma stills, eyes quickly flicking back to Asano. "What?"

Asano only continues to wash the lettuce and continues patronizingly, "You should pray this monstrosity only lasts for – what did you say? Six weeks?"

Petty. Asano definitely has a petty streak. Karma hides his unhappiness and instead leans back in the stool to say lazily, "You can't be serious. Ne, don't you think you're being a little too cruel? The company did not do anything to be treated this way."

"No, but you did," Asano mutters under his breath before he stops and glances at Karma with a raised eyebrow, "You don't know yet?"

"Know what?"

Asano's lips twitch upwards again and he says nonchalantly, "Nothing. Just that I would not do anything cruel to my own company."

Karma furrows his eyebrows before the implications sink in and he realizes aloud, "In other words, you made it into another one of your minions." Karma drops his chin into an open palm and comments with a challenging lilt in his tone, "You know, you're toeing the line on illegal monopoly, Asano-kun. Should I be concerned?"

"Feel free to tattle on me. Although, I wonder how long filing the complaint is going to take." He leans against the counter and raises an eyebrow, "Six weeks?"

Asano smirks, satisfied at the irritated gleam in Akabane's eyes, and continues, "Or can you not wait that long? Are you already suffering from withdrawal? I'm willing to reconsider if you give up and move out."

Akabane's lips automatically pull upwards in a matching smirk as he hums, "Give up? We only started." His eyes flash in challenge voice dipping slightly as he asserts, "I don't leave in the middle of a game."

"Have it your way then because neither do I," Gakushuu says evenly as he turns back to the sink.

* * *

Bam!

Gakushuu jolts slightly at the loud sound and looks up from his laptop with a peeved frown. This is the second time that Akabane has felt the need to make an obnoxiously loud entrance. He's about to retort scathingly but Karma suddenly strides into the living room with a strangely determined face and flings a plastic bag haphazardly onto the coffee table.

Gakushuu pauses as Akabane starts untying the bag and unpacking the nondescript items on the coffee table. He asks warily, "What are you doing?"

Akabane hums cheerfully, "I'm atoning for my wrongdoings."

Gakushuu blinks before he eyes the odd combination of baking soda box, anti-dandruff shampoo, and Vitamin C bottle on the coffee table and notes dubiously, "Really? You picked the most inefficient items to overdose on." He glances at Akabane and continues dryly, "Also, I remember telling you to go kill yourself somewhere else. I don't want this penthouse to be a crime scene."

"You said you're banning the strawberry juice until your hair is no longer pink." Akabane shrugs and nods dismissively towards the table, "So I'm helping. This is supposed to help get the color out."

Gakushuu frowns. "According to what professional opinion?"

Akabane taps the screen of his phone and scrolls down. "Hmm, beautyblogger9875?" He shrugs and looks expectantly towards Gakushuu again. "Come on. Go into the bathroom and lean your head over the sink."

"So you can drown me and wage chemical warfare against my hair simultaneously," Gakushuu says slowly. His expression flattens before he scowls, "I'm afraid, I have to refuse out of self-preservation, you lunatic."

Akabane's eyebrows knit in indignation and he protests, "Hey, I'm really helping!" He fixes him a patronizingly exasperated look that makes Gakushuu seriously reconsider the pros and cons of strangling his so called roommate. "You know, it would be easier if you just went out to a hair salon and have the people there re-dye it or something."

"Yes, because after all of this, the first thing I want is to expose my hair to more chemicals," Gakushuu retorts sarcastically before he shakes his head, "Did being out of school for so long decrease your brain cells?"

"Tch, you're making this harder than it needs to be," Akabane complains as he ambles towards the kitchen, calling out, "It'll turn out fine, so stop being a worrywart."

Gakushuu frowns. He has plenty of things to worry about. Being bald, for one, suddenly seems like a possibility when Akabane returns with a small mixing bowl and teaspoons.

Not fine at all.

He blinks and stares with an increasingly wary expression as Akabane scrolls through his phone again and starts measuring out the baking soda in the mixing bowl. Is he…..seriously doing this?

Akabane hums and reaches for the shampoo bottle, squeezing it with all the cheerfulness that Gakushuu does not feel. There is a strange fascinated gleam in Akabane's eyes that also makes Gakushuu think that Akabane is actually starting to have fun with this.

Out. He's out. Gakushuu decisively closes the laptop and stands up from the sofa because while he's still pissed about his hair, at least he _has_ hair.

Karma blinks at the sudden movement and furrows his eyebrows, "Where are you going?"

"Away from you and whatever elementary science fair project you're doing over there."

Karma grins at the flicker of unease in Asano's eyes and coos deliberately, "Are you chickening out?"

At his taunt, Asano stops midway and crosses his arms to counter, "What exactly about this scene screams reassuring?"

Karma mixes the shampoo paste and hums, "I'm hurt. You would think that considering all the years we've known each other, there would be some comradery." He reaches out and tugs on the rubber gloves as he turns his head, lips already twitching upwards, "Don't you trust me just even a little bit?"

"No," Gakushuu deadpans because if anything, Akabane's sudden resemblance to a mad surgeon only confirms the ominous feeling in his gut. Nothing about this screams fine or reassuring and he immediately takes a step back in wariness. "You - " He widens his eyes when Akabane suddenly lunges towards him, the mixing bowl in one hand and the shampoo paste smeared over the other. He bites back a curse and quickly dodges to the side.

"I swear to god, Akabane, if any of that gets on my head, I'll make sure your favorite drink is discontinued for all eternity!"

"I – Oi, you're spilling the soap!"

"Good, you crazy bastar – Don't track the soap all over the rug! I just had that vacuumed," Asano rebukes sharply as he stops circling around the sofa to glance over at the wet spot near the coffee table.

Karma almost rolls his eyes because seriously, just how much of neat freak is he? He tilts his head and says impatiently, "Then, don't make me chase you." When Asano twists out of hand's reach once more, Karma seriously debates kicking the sofa clear across the other side of the room since Asano seems adamant on playing merry-go-round with it.

He surveys Asano's increasingly irritated expression and suppresses an annoyed scowl of his own. He really does not have any ulterior motives here - for once - so it would not kill Asano to be a bit more appreciative here. Besides, Karma's already peeved that he has to actually undo his own prank.

Honestly. Karma thinks for a moment before he offers idly, "What if I put it in my hair too? Would it relieve Ace-kun's paranoia and blatant distrust of me?"

Asano stares at him incredulously before he says dryly, "Wonderful. Then we can be the two weirdos with pink hair." He shakes his head and throws Karma a deeply exasperated look that has Karma's fingers twitching to upend the entire mixing bowl over Asano's stupid head. "I cannot understand how your head works."

"I meant the soap, you idiot," Karma growls, letting his frustration to uncharacteristically color his tone. Seriously, he's actually trying to do a good thing here, and Asano repays the favor by being stubborn.

Karma sighs before he very slowly and deliberately runs some of the shampoo mixture through his hair, "Look, see? It's perfectly safe."

A bit more at ease but still unconvinced, Asano nods his head towards the table, "And, what are the vitamin C pills for?"

"Apparently, if I smash them into bits and mix it with water, it's supposed to help too?" Karma shrugs. He's not really sure it would work but it would not hurt either. Man, to think the hair dye would actually be something he would be regretting right now.

Asano pauses and surveys the items once more with a more contemplative expression now. After a minute or two in which Karma is sure full of Asano debating the pros and cons of this, Asano finally says, "It's rather pathetic that you can't even last a week without strawberry drinks. You're going to give yourself diabetes one day."

Karma hides a displeased frown at Asano's accurate guess. To be fair though, Karma's pretty sure he could go longer without his favorite drink if sleep deprivation isn't an added handicap and a certain someone isn't waking up at five like a goddamned lunatic.

Although, who knows? Knowing Asano, he probably planned that too in some twisted two pronged strategy.

Karma represses the new surge of irritation and says flippantly, "Ah, I'm touched. Is Asano-kun worried about my health? Besides, it's not like you can go a week without coffee either."

Asano opens his mouth to retort before he pauses and realizes aloud with a frown, "Is that why the coffee machine is not working?"

Karma shrugs. "It's only fair if I can't get my strawberries, then you shouldn't get your caffeine either."

Although, the coffee has been put out of its misery for a few days now and that still has not deterred Asano from his absurd sleeping schedules. Unfortunately.

If this continues, Karma's going to have to amp up the extremeness of his pranks, a bit more _fatal_. He already has his argument in court planned, something along the lines of an insanity defense in view of his extreme mental exhaustion and sleep deprivation.

He's not even kidding. At this rate, if Karma does not regain his full hours of sleep, he's definitely going to be driven insane.

Asano no doubt notices his irritation because his lips twitch upwards and he points out with a trace of smugness, "You do realize that I drink tea as well, yes?"

"I know. I noticed."

Gakushuu stifles an amused chuckle at Karma's brief petulant frown and can't quite resist the urge to tease him again. "You're such a child. Who gets their energy intake from strawberry drinks? They don't even have any caffei-"

"Oops, you got shampoo into your hair," Akabane smiles innocently, completely unapologetic judging by the satisfied gleam in his eyes, and drawls, "You should go rinse it off, Ace-kun."

Gakushuu stands stock-still as he feels the slimy coldness of the shampoo against his scalp. He narrows his eyes and starts darkly, "Akabane, you - "

Akabane hums and shoves him not so gently towards the staircase. "Come on, I'll be your hairdresser for today. Personal hair-shampooing! Lucky you."

Gakushuu scowls and turns back when he notices the position of Akabane's hand dangerously close to the nape of his neck and the mixing bowl dangling precariously from it with the unspoken threat of pouring it all over his hair. Gakushuu bites back a curse and walks up the staircase stiffly, although not without saying lowly, "I think you're confusing the word lucky with the word damned."

He wrenches open the closest bathroom and stalks in. Akabane hums from behind him and comments, "You're too pessimistic. Sit."

Gakushuu sighs and reluctantly sits down on the stool. He glances at Akabane and threatens, "Get soap into my eyes and I'll kill you."

Akabane answers with an amused smirk, "Your death threat is duly noted and recorded." He pauses and notes, "You're not taking your shirt off."

"It's fine."

Karma shrugs. "Don't complain if it gets wet then." He reaches over to grab the showerhead and feels Asano immediately tensing when Karma aims it towards his hair. He chuckles and comments, "You do know I can't drown you like this, right? Or do you have a fear about drowning I should know about?"

"Akabane."

"Hmm?"

"Be quiet," Gakushuu growls and there is another snicker from behind him before Akabane starts to work more of the shampoo into his hair and work it up into a lather. He cannot help but be tensed and hyperaware of every movement because who knows? With Akabane's penchant for trouble, he might end up with a completely different colored hair. And he does not quite feel reassured that Akabane is standing so close to him, _shampooing_ his hair of all things.

After several minutes pass by though, it's clear that nothing is happening. Akabane is…startlingly gentle, the deft fingers sliding through the strands of hair and rubbing carefully on his scalp. The repetitive circles are soothing, good even when the occasional drag of fingernails against his scalp sends tingling prickles throughout.

It's surprisingly easy to forget that it's Akabane who's doing this, even more so when Akabane seems uncharacteristically quiet with the exception of a soft humming here and there. And just like that, Gakushuu finds himself closing his eyes and relaxing into the touch.

Karma watches with amusement as the tension slowly starts to bleed off Asano, lips twitching upwards when Asano suddenly breathes out slowly and softly, visibly more relaxed than initially. It's…a little interesting how Asano suddenly seems docile under his fingertips. It reminds him of petting an ornery stray cat and having it not scratch you for once.

His eyes flick to the exposed slope of the neck and wonders if Asano realizes how vulnerable of a position he is. Karma hums under his breath as he can't help but run his fingers through again, fascinated at the low murmur that Asano lets out unknowingly. He lets the shampoo rest for a few minutes before reaching for the shower head again to rinse it out.

"Done." Karma waits for Asano to register his comment and when Asano's eyelids slowly flutter open, the soft glow of violet and the openness in those eyes makes even Karma pause for a second because he hasn't seen Asano look so at peace like this before.

"Akabane."

Karma blinks and clears his throat, "Yes?"

Asano glances at the mirror again before he says slowly, "It's still pink."

Karma looks down and finally takes in the shade of hair. It is still pink, but leaning more towards a lighter pastel pink. Karma thinks that with a few more rinses, the color might actually fade. He voices aloud, "Well, I still have to do the vitamin C thing." He grins and adds just for the sake of it, "And it's not my fault your hair is as stubborn as you are."

Gakushuu thinks he should be more irritated, but he feels considerably more relaxed and can't quite muster the effort. Waking up at 5 in the morning is taking a toll even on him. So instead, he merely murmurs, "Considering you're the one who caused this, yes, it is."

"It's lighter though," Karma offers as he strips off the rubber gloves and flings it toward the trash can.

Asano makes a noncommittal sound and points out, "But still pink."

Karma shrugs. "I'm sure if you do this every day, it'll come out before you know it."

Asano regards the mixing bowl once more before deciding, "You're helping. It's tedious to prepare all this every time."

Karma furrows his eyebrows. "Hah? Do I need to?"

"I'll tack on another month to the drink ban as interest," Asano says coolly.

Taking in Asano's uncharacteristic mellow demeanor once again, Karma wonders if he just inadvertently stumbled upon a weak spot here. Lips twitching upwards, he comments, "You could just admit I have awesome shampooing skills."

"That has to be the most worthless skill set I have ever heard of."

"Really? You don't look like you're complaining," Karma hums.

When Asano turns back to glare at him, Karma can't hold back the pleased snickers. He honestly has no objections to having to help out with the shampooing if it means he gets to see Asano be compliant for once.

* * *

**Time: Whatever number week they're on now**

Gakushuu does not know anymore. He does not know the number of weeks that has passed by since he and Akabane signed the accursed housing contract nor how exactly Akabane shampooing his hair has become part of their daily routines.

At least, the color is almost faded now. Gakushuu thinks that it will completely disappear by roughly the same time he will have to lift the drink ban. Funny how that works out.

He does not even know what a daily routine is supposed to be anymore. Before nine in the morning, all he had to wait for were the current news reports and a cup of coffee.

Nowadays he's lucky if he can even find a functional coffee maker, what with Akabane suddenly declaring war on all of the household appliances out of some incomprehensible grudge.

Gakushuu sighs as he takes a sip of water and leans back in the chair in the dining room. He glances over at the wall and feels some satisfaction at the disappearance of that stupid calendar. He pauses and furrows his eyebrows. He'd like to say he won that battle of this month, but seeing how his hair is pink and he ended up requisitioning a beverage company much to the confusion of his investors, Gakushuu isn't really sure if he should count this as a win.

Or even as a battle.

He sighs again and flicks through the stock numbers on the tablet. What exactly are they fighting over again?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yup, there you have it. The roommate au/businessmen characters au that I've had in my mind in a while and honestly, I just wanted a pairing that could fit this story line.
> 
> Haha, this might have been borderline crack, but I hope you at least had fun reading it! ^ ^
> 
> I haven't caught up manga wise or anime wise – I know! What I am even writing in this fandom for? – but it's for that same reason, that writing Karma and Gakushuu as their future selves gives me hopefully some leeway.
> 
> And also, this pairing could always use more fanfics.
> 
> In this fic, I kinda went off what it listed for Karma in the wikia (economic politician) – although, I'm not entirely too sure what that entails – and decided to have Asano as a corporate CEO because that gave me more opportunities for creativity and also, I've really wanted to write a story in which the two characters were doing something business related career wise.
> 
> Because, ahem, suits. Need I say more? They're also about 25 years old in this fic.
> 
> I tend to be one of those authors who likes having a slow pace in terms of relationship development, and that's even more true for this fic. I've been feeling stressed lately, so I haven't felt up to updating my other fic, mostly because I don't think I'm in the right mindset to write drama.
> 
> So I wanted to try writing something more experimental in which I don't have to worry about the overarching plot or canon rules and the chapters can be episodic.
> 
> I just want to have fun with this fic and write about two characters messing with each other really. X)
> 
> As always, please feel free to comment/review/leave a kudo/do whatever makes you happy! I would love, love to hear what you guys think about it so far, especially because this is a different writing approach for me.
> 
> (P.S. Yumiko is just a minor OC I used for Asano's secretary.)


	2. A Series of Unfortunate Events

Gakushuu’s eyes slide over to the clock. 8 pm? Seriously? This meeting started at four. _Four_  and it’s already _eight_?

He stifles an irritated groan and instead glances back at a tall wiry young man in his early thirties with black rimmed glasses – Fujiwara, is it? – still presenting about. . . about something.

. . . It’s a bit difficult to understand through all the ums and stuttering.

Gakushuu sighs. Fujiwara is bright, he really is, but public speaking isn’t his forte and judging by the embarrassed flush on Fujiwara’s face, he knows it too.

Gakushuu lets him ramble on for a few more minutes before he decides to take pity on the poor man. He clears his throat and Fujiwara’s mouth clicks shut as everyone around the conference table turns to look at him.

Gakushuu automatically smiles back and remarks, “That was...informative, Fujiwara-san. You can sit down now.”

Fujiwara quickly bows and darts back to his chair, visibly relieved. It would be amusing but as Gakushuu glances discreetly at the clock again – How on earth is it already 8? – he only feels exhausted.

Time to adjourn then.

Gakushuu glances down at the printed agenda before he continues, “Well, then, we’ll end the meeting with a brief progress report on the hotel project.”

. . . Only no one speaks. Gakushuu immediately stills. Goddamn it. Not again.

Someone, _someone_ , is definitely getting fired tonight.

He drums his fingers slowly on the table and deliberately looks every single one of his departmental head in the eye. Lips curving in a smile that he knows is far too sharp to be nice, Gakushuu enunciates slowly, “Is there a problem?”

* * *

 

Clink!

Gakushuu flings the keys and briefcase haphazardly on the dining table.

He pauses and rubs his face in aggravation. Why does he even bother with meetings?

Gakushuu scowls.  No, actually, why do his departmental heads even bother attending the damn things in the first place?  

Gakushuu grumbles under his breath as he makes his way into the kitchen. Morons. They’re all morons and he’s surrounded by them.

Gakushuu glances at the clock and curses aloud again. 10 pm.

 _Goddamn it_.

 _Two_ hours. The meeting was only supposed to take _two_ hours. The head of each department was supposed to give him a progress report. Straightforward and simple.

Gakushuu scoffs. As if. When are things ever straightforward and simple?

Wonderful. Gakushuu grimaces and stalks over towards the sleek, black kitchen cabinets. Absolutely wonderful. He can already visualize the tower of proposals and documents on his desk waiting for him on Monday.

Meetings and paperwork. The bane of his existence.

Gakushuu freezes as he takes in the empty cabinet. And apparently, so is Akabane.

He furrows his eyebrows as he quickly scans it once more. Where the hell are the plates and cups?

Gakushuu pinches the bridge of his nose, but it does nothing to hold back the white hot rage searing through him. He slams the cabinet shut so hard the door shudders and nearly threatens to unhinge itself.

That goddamned bastard….

“ ** _Akabane!_** ”

* * *

 

Karma drags his index finger down the page and squints at the messily scrawled numbers for oh, just the _thousandth_ time.

But again, the inked letters twist and blur in an indecipherable slither of black. Karma frowns. These _are_ numbers and letters, right?

Whoever penned this document was clearly a sadistic and selfish brat who enjoyed drawing abstract art on paper rather than employing any of the languages known to man.

Karma groans and flops down on the floor once more, completely disregarding the reference papers strewn all over the floor. He raises the small booklet above his head once more and stares at the numbers.

Goddamn it, did someone sneeze while they were writing this? Is that a zero? Or an unfortunate blob of ink?

Or – hold on…. can this actually be… code? Karma pauses and tilts his head. Huh. He turns the booklet upside down and squints again.

Nope.

The numbers and words make as much sense as Asano’s sleeping patterns.

Great. Fantastic. And to think he went through so much effort to steal – ahem, requisition - this book.

Karma is thumbing through the pages with an increasingly irritated frown when his bedroom door suddenly flings open with a loud _bang_.

His eyes immediately widen - Goddamn it, the papers are flying everywhere – and he complains, “Hey! Watch the door!”

“What the hell did you do with the tableware?”

“The what?” Karma asks distractedly as he sits up and tries to gather up the papers. Folders. Man, why didn’t he use folders?

“The tableware!”

Karma stops abruptly, eyes snapping to Asano in utter confusion. The what?

Eyebrows furrowing, he asks blankly, “What are you talking about, Ace-kun? Tableware? Have your insomniac sleeping patterns finally driven you over the edge?”

“Very amusing. Don’t test my patience right now.” Asano narrows his eyes as his voice darkens, “I’ll ask one more time. _What_ did you _do_ with the tableware?”

Karma raises an eyebrow. With lips thinning in clear displeasure and eyes flashing an ominous shade of purple, Asano reminds him eerily of a snake about to strike.

… which makes no sense because he hasn’t even _done_ anything to harass Asano this week.

Well, not yet anyways.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. What happened to the tablewa – Hey!”

Asano’s hand suddenly latches onto his wrist and yanks him forward and out the room. Karma widens his eyes, a little surprised at both at the sudden movement and the strength of the grip. “Hey, what are you doing? Let go, Ace-kun. Have you finally lost your – ow!.”

Karma hisses in pain as his toe stubs into a step. “What the fuck are you doing, you crazy – Slow down, damn it!”

But Asano doesn’t, doesn’t even look back and Karma seriously is about to kick him before Asano yanks again and Karma finds himself nearly flailing down the stairs following after him.

Cracked, Asano has definitely cracked in the head. Karma glowers at the back of the strawberry blond lunatic. Seriously? Out of all the demented household items that Asano is obsessed over, it’s _tableware_?

Asano finally stops in front of the kitchen counter. He all but flings Karma’s hand away, ignores the irritated glare that Karma shoots his way, and says flatly, “Look.”

Karma scowls, fingers twitching restlessly. He really, really wants to throttle Asano right now.

But instead, he deliberately turns and claps slowly, lips stretching in a wide, sardonic smile even as his eyes narrow dangerously, “Ah, a cupboard. That’s nice. So, so nice, Ace-kun. Thank you for enlightening me on the details of our kitchen and all of its wonderful functions, but you seriously have lost your f- ”

Asano throws open the cupboard doors with another bang and grits out, “It’s empty, you idiot.”

Karma pauses, eyebrows furrowed, and glances at the cupboard again. Wait, what?

He blinks. No plates. No bowls. Nothing. Nada.

It really is empty.

Huh.

Bewildered, Karma reaches out and opens the other cabinets, murmuring curiously, “Where are the bowls and plates?”

His eyes flick over them once more. Empty. They’re all empty. Frowning now, Karma yanks open the drawers too and blinks again. “And the silverware? Or the pots?”

Alarmed, he stops and takes a step back. Where did all of their eating utensils go?

“That’s what I was asking!” Asano suddenly snaps from behind him.

Akabane blinks again before his eyes widen with too much genuine surprise for Gakushuu’s liking. “Wait. You think _I_ took them?”

Gakushuu’s jaw clenches. Unbelievable. He narrows his eyes and nearly growls, voice rough with irritation. “Brilliant deduction. What gave it away? Is it how I’ve repeatedly asked you _what you did with the tableware_ in the last five minutes? ”

  1. It’s _10_ pm, for god’s sakes. All he wants is to eat and go to sleep. And instead, Akabane decides to hoard all of their silverware and tableware like some kleptomaniac seagull.



Gakushuu doesn’t know if he wants to bang his head against the nearest surface or shove Akabane out the closest window. Truthfully, it’s probably a combination of both.

Instead, he presses his lips in a tight line and looks pointedly at Akabane. But, Akabane only raises another eyebrow and crosses his arms. “Well, it’s not me. I use them too, you know.”

Asano only levels him another unimpressed glare and suddenly it’s Karma’s turn to feel vexed.

Because, ok, fine. So maybe out of the two of them, this prank seems more up his alley than Asano’s. Except he didn’t _do_ it.

And he is definitely not taking the blame for something he didn’t do.

Karma frowns slightly and demands, “What would I do with them, Ace-kun? Play drums with the pots and pans?”

He scoffs at the image. “That’s what a four year old would do.”

“And a four year old is different from you... how?”  Gakushuu asks dryly.

“Innocent before proven guilty, Ace-kun. Where’s your evidence that I did this?” Karma points out with a lazy nod towards the cabinets.

“Evidence?” Gakushuu exhales shortly in disbelief before barking, “I don’t need evidence! There are only two people in this apartment! You can do simple arithmetic, can’t you?”

Akabane’s eyes flash gold before he repeats, voice equally indignant and irritated, “Oh? So, in other words, you didn’t see me take the plates or spoons. This is what we would call an _assumption_ , Ace-kun. Or do you need me to go over the definition?”

“No. Do you need _me_ to go over the definition of absurdity?” Gakushuu snaps back before continuing, “Because that is exactly what your argument is.”

Akabane huffs with exasperation, “I didn’t do this, Asano-kun.”

“Oh? And if you didn’t do it, who did? The nonexistent third person in the room?” Gakushuu counters.

“What about you?” Akabane surveys him speculatively with a raised eyebrow and adds almost accusatorily, “How do I know that you didn’t do this?”

Gakushuu nearly balks at the sheer ridiculousness of that statement before he glowers at Akabane, “What? What kind of ludicrous reverse psychology is that? At least _try_ to come up with a plausible excuse, will you?”

“It is plausible,” Karma retorts and waves a hand in the air. “You got too enthusiastic about cleaning and misplaced them.”

Actually, huh, that sounds about right. Knowing Asano’s freakishly neat tendencies, that’s probably – definitely – the case. Man, he knew one of these days, Asano’s cleaning habits would be the death of him.

“What? I misplaced them?” Asano repeats incredulously.

Karma shrugs, hiding an amused grin when he sees Asano’s eye twitch in response. He shrugs and offers innocently, “Who knows? Maybe you sleepwalk, Ace-kun.”

“ _What_?”

Akabane ignores him and instead clasps a hand over his mouth to stifle an obnoxiously loud yawn. Gakushuu’s eye twitches again.

This insufferable bastard…

And as if to test the already shredded remains of his patience, Akabane stretches his arms and drawls, “Anyways, not that being interrogated by you isn’t fun, but I have actually have things to do, Ace-kun.”

“So,” Akabane glances back, lips curving in a smirk even as he continues matter-of-factly, “shouldn’t you go find the tableware?”

Speechless. Gakushuu is speechless. Go –

Go find the tableware?

Gakushuu can feel his fingers clenching, fingers biting into his skin but all he can do is stare wordlessly at Akabane’s back sauntering out of the kitchen.

This – What? - He said ‘go find the tableware’?

Gakushuu’s mind grinds to a screeching halt as the words echo indignantly through his head.

He was the one who came home and found out that all the spoons and bowls were gone, and the obvious culprit tells him to _go find the tableware_?

Unbelievable.

Gakushuu scowls and strides quickly after Akabane. It’s a pity that all of the kitchen knives are gone when he’s finally found a perfect use for them.

Karma raises an eyebrow at the loud, punctuated footsteps thundering after him into the living room. He tilts his head back to see Asano glaring after him, violet eyes practically seething murderously.

“I don’t sleepwalk,” Asano says lowly, voice acidic with condescension.

Karma pretends to consider his words for a moment before he comments flippantly, “Hmm, would someone who sleepwalk know that they do?” He smirks and adds, “You know, because they’re sleeping while they walk?”

He expects the angry growl, the look of absolute rage crossing Asano’s face. He does, really, because that’s precisely the reason he provoked Asano in the first place.

What he doesn’t expect is the violet pillow that suddenly thwacks him in the face.

Karma blinks and stares at the fallen cushion on the floor.

“Ne, Asano-kun~. Did you just throw a pillow at me?” Karma asks pleasantly even as his eyes unconsciously flash, lips hiking up into a sharp grin.

This time, he catches the sudden blur of violet to his face, fingers reflexively grabbing onto it. He barely has time to utter another word though before Asano is already grabbing another cushion from one of the armchairs and launching that one as well.

It bounces off the side of the coffee table and crashes into a painting on the wall. The painting teeters and totters for a second before it topples down with a loud _thack_.

They both pause and look up to stare at each other.

And then Asano roars, “Just give back the goddamned tableware!”

Karma automatically – vindictively – throws the cushion in hand hard at Asano even as he complains, “I just _said_ , I didn’t take it!”

“And what, I did?” Asano snarls as he somehow dodges that one and hurls yet another pillow towards Karma. “Do you even hear yourself?”

Karma immediately ducks behind the other arm chair. He watches the pillow sail over the sofa and careen into the standing lamp. The lamp wobbles for a second before it falls along with the pillow with the ugly sound of shattering glass.

He snatches up the cushion on the armchair and pitches it towards Asano. “You woke up at 5 in the morning and vacuumed! Anything’s possible.”

Unfortunately, Asano dives behind the sofa and the pillow streaks through the air….and straight into the other lamp. The lamp tilts and crashes down immediately with another loud crack of broken glass.

Karma reaches back for another pillow only for his fingers to clench on empty air. He clicks his tongue in annoyance, eyes roving around the room for more ammunition.

Asano must be looking for the same thing because their eyes meet and flick towards the sofa. And then suddenly, Karma finds himself lunging towards the sofa along with Asano.

He quickly grabs a cushion from the sofa behind him and raises it just in time to slam it against the violet cushion that Asano raises towards him.

 _Poompf_!

The pillows rip and a flurry of white feathers suddenly blows up in front of Karma’s face.

That doesn’t deter Asano as he grabs another nearby cushion and retorts, “You’re the one who keeps breaking all the appliances!”

“One appliance. _One_.” Karma grits out as he blocks that one with another pillow.

 _Poompf_!

The feathers flutter through the air once more. He scoops up another pillow and frowns as he adds annoyed, “And you went out and bought another coffee machine already.”

“Because you broke it!” Asano says exasperatedly. He immediately leans back as a cushion zooms towards him. It misses him and crashes into the stack of DVDs next to the TV.

“Yeah, because all of your appliances are as demented as you are!”

 _Crack!_ The vase slips off the coffee table and plummets down to the ground.

“You don’t even drink coffee!”

 “So? That stupid thing keeps beeping!”

 _Thump!_ The stack of magazines scatter all over the floor.

 “All coffee machines do that, you idiot!”

 _Thud!_ The voicemail machine slides off the shelf and smashes down onto the floor.

“Not to the point where I can hear it from upstairs in a closed room, Ace-kun.” Karma shoots him a dirty look, rankled just at the memory of that infernal thing. He bends down quickly and grabs a still intact cushion on the floor.

Gakushuu’s about to utter some choice words over Akabane’s irrational senses when something gold flies towards him. He immediately hits it away and growls, exasperated, “Stop throwing pillows at me!”

“You started it!” Akabane yells back even as he takes the chance to lunge towards him.

“And you’re continuing it!” Gakushuu counters as he quickly dodges to his left and retaliates with a kick aimed at Akabane’s side.

Only Karma catches the leg and yanks it towards him with a grin. He underestimates his strength though and the movement sends Karma falling back on the sofa with Asano’s weight crashing into him.

The world tilts sideways and Karma lets out a pained groan as Asano lands squarely on top of him. He grimaces for a second at the taste of cotton in his mouth – Damn it, he probably swallowed a feather or something – but that’s all Asano needs to reach out and quickly hold down his arms.

Gakushuu braces himself against Akabane’s squirming limbs and tightens his grip, struggling even as he bites out, “Are you going to return the tableware or not?”

Akabane stops struggling and stares up at him with wide, incredulous eyes. “Just buy a new set! Or are you telling me the CEO of his own company doesn’t have enough money to buy new plates and forks?”

“Why do I need to?!” Gakushuu says disbelievingly, his grip unconsciously growing lax. “Just return them!”

Karma frowns and takes advantage of Asano’s reaction to move his leg up and flip them over. He bites back a curse as Asano elbows him in the face and quickly presses down, knees digging into Asano’s sides and fingers tightening around Asano’s wrists.

“Ne, did you suddenly lose your hearing, Ace-kun? I didn’t take your beloved silverware! I didn’t even realize they were missing until you barged in and falsely accused me.”

Gakushuu struggles again and hisses in irritation when Akabane does not budge. It takes a minute for Akabane’s question to filter through the stream of curses in his head, and even then, he looks back at Akabane scornfully. “Are you seriously telling me you haven’t stepped in the kitchen at all this evening?”

“I haven’t even eaten dinner yet!”

Gakushuu raises an eyebrow and states flatly, “It’s already 10 pm. Exactly what time do you eat dinner then?”

To his surprise, Akabane looks taken aback, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about? It can’t already be 10.”

Unbidden, the earlier scene of Akabane lying on the floor, surrounded by numerous files, flits through his mind.

Has he been working since he got home?

Gakushuu sighs, suddenly tired and exasperated with the whole debacle. He shakes his captured hand and says wryly, “Check my watch. Have you suddenly gone blind or do you not know how to tell time?”

Akabane quickly glances at the watch and Gakushuu watches his eyes widen briefly in genuine surprise. Huh. So he really did work that long into the night then.

Akabane’s eyes dart back to him and Akabane says a bit defensively, “I was working, ok? It’s not my fault that -”

 “Hello?”

Gakushuu blinks at the new voice. It sounds too soft-spoken and….feminine to come from either one of them.

Karma exchanges a glance with Asano before they both look towards the doorway.

To their surprise, a petite elderly woman in her late sixties or so takes a careful step forward in a blue dress and white cardigan.

Karma’s eyes quickly rove over her features: a rounded face, graying hair tied back in a low bun, and pronounced smile lines around her mouth and eyes. There is a kindness to her features that lends her a motherly aura, even more so when she gazes at them with brown eyes wide with concern.

Gakushuu furrows his eyebrows in confusion. Who is this?

Akabane, on the other hand, murmurs aloud, “Ace-kun must be losing his keen senses if he’s leaving the front door open.”

Gakushuu privately agrees. He must be losing his mind to be throwing pillows much less forgetting to lock the door.

God, he can feel his IQ dropping just from thinking that statement.

Akabane does not notice Gakushuu’s sudden pained frown and instead tilts his head in curiosity. “And who might you be, obaasan?”

The woman does not answer though as her lips part in soundless surprise, eyes sweeping across the room with increasing alarm.

Gakushuu inwardly winces. Broken glass, skewed furniture, and feathers everywhere…It’ll be a miracle if the woman does not call the police.

And sure enough, the woman turns back to them with an expression somewhere between panic and horror. “Is everything alright?”

Gakushuu blinks blankly at her, completely at a loss for words.

How is he even supposed to do damage control here?

Smile charmingly and send her off with an explanation that oh, he and his crazy idiot of a roommate got into a disagreement over missing silverware, of all things? That despite being 25 years old, a pillow fight is their way of resolving arguments?

…Forget the police. It’ll be a wonder if the woman does not call the nearest mental hospital.

Before Gakushuu can decide on the best excuse – er, lie - Akabane repeats again, “Who are you, obaachan?”

The woman pauses before she smiles hesitantly, “Ah, I live downstairs. I heard things breaking and loud footsteps and well, I got worried. After the last cycle of tenants, it’s – I suppose…”

Her voice suddenly trails off and she frowns briefly at a distant memory. The woman shakes her head and focuses back on them. “Are you two alright?”

Karma furrows his eyebrows at the odd phrasing. Cycle of tenants?

It’s a bit weird too that she thinks something _happened_ to Asano and him. Anyone in their right mind, after taking one look at the destroyed living room, would deem Asano and him unruly and clearly insane neighbors and proceed to back away cautiously from the room by now.

Instead, the woman peers worriedly at them, still anxiously waiting for their answer. In fact, Karma is pretty sure that she is one step away from calling for help.

So he smiles reassuringly at her and says lightly, “See what you did, Asano-kun? You made the poor woman so worried she had to climb up to our floor.”

Asano’s eyebrows immediately pinch together and he mutters darkly, “I really don’t want to hear that from you.”

“Oh,” the woman suddenly interrupts, startled. Her eyes rove over them again before they light up in belated realization and her cheeks redden slightly in embarrassment.

She shakes her head and frets, hands coming up to her mouth, “Oh dear. I did something unnecessary, didn’t I?” The woman smiles apologetically at them, much to both Karma’s and Asano’s surprise. “Silly me. Just try not to be too loud past midnight, if you could.”

Unnecessary? Gakushuu blinks. What? Is she…not calling the police?

He glances back up to Akabane and immediately freezes. Akabane is still sitting – straddling – him with feathers all over his hair and cheeks colored from exertion.

Karma feels Asano stilling underneath him and glances down. His eyes flick over Asano’s rumpled suit, the skewed blue tie, the unusually messy strands of hair and – what did the obaasan say? Try not be loud past midnight?

Karma takes in his position, notices how Asano is still sprawled on the sofa underneath him and – Oh.

_Oh._

Dumbfounded, Karma blinks and sees his bewilderment mirrored on Asano’s face and then suddenly, they both quickly whip their heads back to the woman and splutter,

“That isn’t what it looks lik –“

“You have the wrong impressi –“

“Ah, no need to explain. It was my fault for intruding so carelessly,” She gently interrupts and fixes them with such an understanding gaze that Gakushuu thinks it would have been better if she called the police after all.

She gives them another half-smile, this time, eyes dancing a bit in mirth and amusement before bidding them a quick goodnight.

Karma swears that he hears a soft, muffled giggle right before the door clicks shut. He blinks, unsure whether he should feel amused or alarmed. He glances down at Asano who looks just as confused before violet eyes suddenly narrow and a hand brusquely shoves him off the sofa, “Get off, you idiot! This is your fault!”

“Oi, Asano –kun. Where is this sudden violent streak coming from?” Karma complains as he lands rather ungracefully on the floor. He seriously doesn’t get anything that has happened tonight. Asano apparently doesn’t either because Karma suddenly hears a loud stream of muttered curses.

Karma sighs. Too lazy to get up, he flops carelessly on the floor and stares idly up at the ceiling. “We have interesting neighbors, don’t you think?”

“I don’t understand how anyone could come to that conclusion,” Asano grumbles before cursing under his breath again.

Karma grins in amusement. “For such a gentle obaachan, she must have been reading some very interesting romantic books.”

Asano does not hear him though. He’s too busy ranting about being surrounded by delusional idiots or something, so Karma reaches up and pokes Asano in the leg repeatedly until Asano finally pauses and looks down at him crossly, “What?”

“What do you mean what? Look at the trashed living room.” Karma waves a hand lazily in the air and continues with a growing smirk, “Don’t tell me this is how most of your romantic nights go.” He waggles his eyebrows and asks slyly, “Exactly how kinky are you, Ace-kun?”

“You -” Asano growls before he kicks Karma in the thigh with his foot and continues irately, “Stop talking. I seriously need you to stop talking.”

Akabane snickers and Gakushuu kicks him again, eyebrow twitching in irritation. The stupid silverware is _still_ missing, their neighbor, who they met for the first time, thinks they’re somehow a couple, and the living room is wrecked.

Great. Wonderful.

Gakushuu glances at his watch and groans. It’s 11 pm already. He leans back against the sofa and stares up at the ceiling. He can’t understand the sheer ridiculousness of today. At all.

A couple of minutes pass before Asano realizes that it’s strangely quiet and wonders if Akabane fell asleep. He glances down and sees Akabane playing absentmindedly with the feathers on the floor.

Gakushuu cringes slightly because he really, really is not looking forward to cleaning up. He surveys Asano speculatively and deliberates for a moment before asking, “How long have you been working in your room?”

What he really wants to ask is where the damned tableware is. But …seeing how _productive_ the earlier conversation played out, they can’t really afford to trash another room and Gakushuu is already exhausted as it is. He might as well give Akabane the benefit of the doubt.

Akabane peers up at him curiously. “Oh, did Ace-kun finally realize how rudely he barged into my room and sent all my papers flying?”

Well, he does now.

Gakushuu shrugs and counters easily, “Did it ever occur you to place your papers on the desk instead of the floor? Or do the functions of a desk escape you as well?”

“I like having an open work space.”

“And I happen to like eating food with utensils,” Gakushuu answers pointedly because fine, so maybe he can’t let it go after all.

“Maybe someone broke in,” Akabane offers idly as he blows away a feather on his finger.

“To play hide and seek with our pots and pans,” Gakushuu deadpans. God, sometimes he wonders about Akabane’s sanity.

Akabane shrugs and points out placidly, “Well, if you didn’t do it and I didn’t do it, then either someone broke in or this apartment is haunted.”

“Haunted?” Gakushuu echoes, resisting the urge to rub his temples. He doesn’t even know why he bothered asking.

That’s it.  He doesn’t care anymore. Buying a new set is far less problematic than finding the old one.

Karma doesn’t notice Asano’s sudden epiphany and hums under his breath, “Doesn’t that sound fun? We have visitors from the other world, Ace-kun.”

He chuckles, amused at the idea of ghosts stealing their forks and spoons. Truthfully, though? He’s still pretty sure that Asano misplaced the tableware somewhere while cleaning.

“What other world is that?” Asano asks sourly. “The mental asylum?”

“How ironi -” _Grrowl._ Karma stops abruptly, hand immediately covering his stomach. Damn it. Asano blinks, startled, eyes flicking down to Karma in surprise.

There’s a pause of silence before Asano wonders aloud, “So you really haven’t eaten dinner.”

“See? I said I didn’t have - ” _Grrrrooowllll_.

Karma grimaces and sits up. God, he’s hungry. He rubs his stomach idly and glances sideways.

Asano meets his gaze, eyes gleaming in definite amusement and lips already twitching upwards in a smirk.

Karma blinks before he quickly gets up. “I told you I was innocent.”

He doesn’t wait for Asano’s response and quickly – purposefully - turns instead to head straight to the kitchen. Steadfastly ignoring the sudden heat he can feel crawling up his neck and over his face, Karma tries to ask nonchalantly, “Do we have any food in the fridge?”

Karma snatches open the fridge door and ducks his head to scan, definitely to scan the contents of said fridge and not to hide his face from the asshole he can hear following after him.  “You buy appliances but not food, Ace-kun?”

He frowns. There is nothing in there except for some strawberry juice cartons, two eggs, and a rather pathetic looking carrot. Even he can’t make anything with this.

Asano answers smoothly from behind him, “I wasn’t aware I had to do grocery shopping for you.”

Karma immediately straightens and closes the fridge. Asano leans against the counter with a deeply amused grin and eyes gleaming smugly.

Karma’s fingers twitch in annoyance. For god’s sakes. Trying not to scowl, he yanks open a drawer and says evenly, “Take-out it is then.”

Gakushuu watches Akabane as he rummages through the drawer. His eyes flick over the slightly reddened tips of Akabane’s ears and he represses a chuckle.

So Akabane isn’t immune to embarrassment, after all.

Interesting.

Before Gakushuu can comment on Akabane’s reaction, Akabane suddenly turns and dumps a pile of ads and brochures on the counter. Gakushuu blinks and then does a double take at the barrage of neon letters and restaurants’ names glaring back at him. “Exactly how often do you order take-out?”

Akabane shrug, his usual lazy grin returning as he quips, “I’m just doing my part to support small businesses.”

Gakushuu looks askance at the pile. From the look of it, Akabane’s doing his part to support the entire city. He didn’t even _know_ that there were this many take out places.

He sighs and reaches for the pile. “What do you want, then?”

* * *

 

“Impressive, Ace-kun,” Karma says as he lets out a low whistle and surveys the now tidied up living room. “It looks exactly like it did before if you ignore the fact that we have no pillows and no lamps.”

“You could have helped me, you know. Or do you not know what a broom is for either?” Asano says dryly before levelling him a pointed look. He pauses and adds as an afterthought, “You’re throwing away the trash.”

Asano gestures to the tied up bags on the floor where he no doubt swept all the feathers and broken glass in. Karma glances at them. He’s tempted to refuse, just to irritate Asano for the sake of it. But…. then again, Asano did clean up.

So instead, Karma shrugs and agrees easily, “Sure.”

Gakushuu blinks, a bit surprised. Akabane pays him no mind though and joins him on the sofa, placing the bag of take-out onto the table.

Technically speaking, this is not dinner though. It’s breakfast, judging by the clock.

He sighs and reaches for a carton. Food is food, not matter what time it is.

Akabane hums idly besides him and fishes the remote out from under the sofa.

There aren’t a lot of options on TV at this time of the night, but Akabane manages to find a drama playing and settles comfortably back against the sofa, legs crisscross Indian-style with a carton of white rice balanced haphazardly on his knee.

Gakushuu glances at it warily before he sighs. He has had enough of cleaning after Akabane for one day. Akabane can deal with his own mess.

Gakushuu honestly doesn’t get the plot since the episode playing is episode 20 or so, but excluding Akabane’s running commentary, dinner turns out surprisingly to be the most uneventful part of today.

* * *

 

When a hand suddenly shakes him and a glance at the clock tells him that it’s eight o’clock in the morning on a Saturday, Karma knows there’s only one person in the world who can be delusional enough to wake him.

He doesn’t even bother to look up and instead mashes his face determinedly into the pillow. “Go away, Asano.”

“You’re already awake.”

Karma can hear the frown in Asano’s voice and resists the urge to strangle him. If anyone should be frowning, it should be Karma. He grumbles, “Is someone dying?”

“No.”

Asshole. Asano is such a selfish asshole. Since Asano obviously can’t sleep like a normal person, the least he could do is let Karma sleep enough for the both of them.

Karma nuzzles deeper into his pillow and mumbles blearily, “Then go away.” When Asano, the inconsiderate bastard, leans over and shakes him again, he growls, “I mean it. Go away or someone _will_ be dying.”

There’s a sigh and then a blast of cold air hits him as Asano yanks away the covers. Karma immediately cringes as his skin prickles sharply with goosebumps. He groans, “I really hate you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Asano says evenly before he taps his foot impatiently. “Come on, get up already.”

Karma lets out a long exhale before he grudgingly sits up, eyes narrowing at Asano. “You seriously have problems, Asano. Aren’t you taking the phrase misery loves company too far? Just because you’re an insomniac doesn’t mean I should be one too.”

Asano sighs again and turns to walk out the door. “Come on. I found the silverware.”

Karma glowers after him. Silverware? Again?

He scowls, mind already running through all the creative ways forks and spoons can be used for stabbing a certain idiot here. Karma runs a hand through his hair and trudges down the stairs, complaining crossly, “You misplaced it, didn’t you? I knew it. You got too invested in cleaning and forgot where you put them. Where’s my apology. Ace-kun?”

“Stop whining,” Asano retorts as he leads them towards the space where the washing machine is. He throws a rather indignant look behind him and adds, “And this isn’t an apology.”

Karma stares exasperated at him. He doesn’t even want to know why Asano woke up this early when they went to sleep at like 3 in the morning yesterday or why Asano felt the need to poke his head into the laundry room.

Crazy bastard.

Asano comes to a stop before the washing machine. “Look.”

“Hmm?” Karma asks as he rubs his eyes sleepily. God, he’s so tired. He quickly peruses the room. For some reason, all of their spoons, forks, chopsticks, knives, and what not are all arranged on the floor to spell out in big letters: GET OUT!

Karma blinks and asks blankly, “Why is Ace-kun playing scrabble with the silverware?”

Asano lets out an exasperated noise and says irritated, “I didn’t do it, you sleep deprived idiot.”

“You’re the reason I’m sleep deprived in the first place,” Karma shoots back before he glances back down at the display. He frowns. “Seriously, you still think I did this?”

At Asano’s pointed look, Karma throws his hands in the air and complains, “Anyone can tell that this is not my style. I’m getting tired of you accusing me for every little thing”

Asano leans against the doorway and says dryly. “I thought your style was harassing people.”

“How rude.” Karma crosses his arms and gestures to the pile. “This is too juvenile.”

“And putting pink hair dye in my shampoo is not?” Asano asks with a raised eyebrow.

Karma looks over at him. “I thought we were over that.”

“And what gave you that impression?”

He eyes Asano’s hair. Most of the pink has already faded, so he doesn’t even know what Asano is complaining over. Karma comments lazily, “It’s petty to hold onto grudges.” He nods towards the floor and smirks slightly, “And besides, why would I need to steal our silverware to tell you something that I have no problem telling you to your face?”

Asano says matter-of-factly, “Because it’s more aggravating this way.”

Karma stifles a yawn and nods, “Right. So – ”

He stops, eyebrows furrowed as he takes in Asano’s words again. “Wait. No.” He pauses. God, he wants to go back to sleep. Karma sighs and regards Asano skeptically. “You’re getting pretty good with the reverse psychology thing, aren’t you?”

At that, Asano’s face contorts in something between exasperation and incredulity. Asano opens his mouth before snapping it shut and shaking his head. “…I don’t have the mental energy to deal with you right now.”

Karma frowns because seriously, he should be the one saying that. Before he could retort, Asano is already turning away and muttering, “In fact, I no longer care. Just put them in the dishwasher, alright?”

Karma stares after him and calls out, frustrated, “For the last time, I didn’t do it!”

He glances back down at the various eating utensils and resists the urge to bang his head against the wall. Seriously, what the hell is happening right now?

He just wants to go back to sleep.

* * *

 

Gakushuu sighs and stares at his laptop. His mind travels back to this morning.

It’s a little weird, to be honest, that message arranged on the floor. He frowns and thinks again. The phrasing, he decides. The phrasing bothers him.

Akabane usually uses taunts and way too many emoticons. Just blatantly declaring for him to get out is not only redundant but boring. This particular prank doesn’t have Akabane’s creative flair nor his childish and sadistic whims.

Then again, it’s Akabane he’s talking about right now. And besides, if Akabane didn’t do it, who did?

Gakushuu shakes his head. He’s clearly reading too much into this.

Loud footsteps echo down the stairs and he looks up from the dining table to see Akabane hurrying down, dressed down in a plain white tee shirt and dark jeans. Gakushuu sighs again and looks back to his laptop.

He should just forget this entire incident. Just thinking about the impromptu pillow fight makes him want to kick himself.

_Clang! Thonk! Clack!_

Gakushuu freezes at the sudden loud metal din echoing through the room followed by Akabane’s loud cussing.

He quickly gets up and hurries into the living room. Akabane is sitting on the floor. The side closet is open and the various pots and pans are scattered all over the floor.

Huh. So that’s where all their cooking pots were.

His eyes rove over Akabane and he frowns, immediately reaching down to help Akabane up. “What happened?”

Akabane curses again before he glares at the closet and then at Asano. He asks slowly, voice lilting dangerously, “Asano, why the hell are the pots and pans in the side closet?”

Gakushuu frowns again and says defensively, “How am I supposed to know?”

At Akabane’s wary look, Gakushuu holds his gaze and enunciates slowly, voice serious and steeled, “I didn’t do this.”

“And I didn’t put the silverware in the laundry room,” Akabane says evenly with a challenging gleam to his golden eyes.

There is a tense moment of silence as they both survey each other before Gakushuu sighs and nods, “Fine. You didn’t do this. I didn’t do this.” He pauses and adds dryly, “I guess that leaves the nonexistent third person in the room.”

Akabane looks speculatively at him before he slowly nods and relaxes. He peers down at the mess curiously and remarks, “I told you, we were haunted.”

Gakushuu rolls his eyes and mutters, “Right.” He pauses and looks over Akabane again warily. “You didn’t get injured or anything, did you?”

Akabane looks taken aback, eyes widening briefly before he recovers. He shrugs with a teasing grin, “What’s this, Ace-kun? Is this concern for my well-being? I have quick reflexes. No need to worry.”

“Who said I was worried?” Gakushuu shoots back before he leans down to pick the pots. Akabane snickers from besides him and Gakushuu half-wishes he never even asked at all.

Akabane bends down to help him and after a few minutes, asks thoughtfully, “You don’t sleepwalk, do you?”

And just like that, any shred of sympathy or concern evaporates and Gakushuu turns to glare at him. “ _No_.”

Akabane snickers again, eyes lighting up in bright amusement. And Gakushuu shakes his head in exasperation.

He doesn’t even know why he bothers. Honestly.

* * *

 

They don’t talk of the silverware incident after that.

….

Mostly because they’re preoccupied with work.

Gakushuu is too busy trying not to throw his entire project development team out the window.

He asks for a goddamned progress report and they come back telling him that construction has not even started yet, that they can’t when the financial and accounting team has refused to give them an estimate for the budget.

To which the financial and accounting team argues that they cannot allocate funds since the legal team has not given them the ok yet.

Which the legal team protests that it’s because the development team’s building design does not align with the city’s new ecofriendly campaign and therefore, the city is having second thoughts handing them the land grant.

And etcetera, etcetera.

It’s a cycle of incompetence. They all have degrees in their respective fields and yet all they seem to be good at is pointing their fingers at each other.

Fantastic.

Karma, on the other hand, thinks that he’s seriously about to drown in paperwork.

Apparently, one of the criminal departments had been investigating a smuggling ring and was trying to track them down through their financial records only to stumble upon credit card companies that seemed suspicious themselves.

Unfortunately, that led to the discovery of several shell banks, including some routed overseas….plus several implicated companies and well, let’s just say this is going to be a headache if this doesn’t get resolved before the national economic conference next month.

Karma’s boss nearly had a stroke yesterday as he ranted about how could it be possible that none of the financial bureaus caught these discrepancies and goddamn it, are they going to have reform the entire banking system?

Oh yeah, there goes his entire sleeping schedule for the week.

So honestly, who cares about the stupid silverware? It was missing and now it’s not. End of story.

Never mind the fact that both Gakushuu and Karma still don’t know who took it in the first place.

* * *

 

Time: 8 Days after the Silverware Incident

Karma groans and reaches out blindly to yank the covers even closer to him. God, why is it so cold?

He turns on his side, cheek pressed against the pillow, and curls up tighter, sighing. Ah, much better.

* * *

 

Karma wakes up later that night with a sneeze. He blinks blearily and glances at the clock.

2 am.

He blinks again at the red, glaring numbers. 2 am? Why the hell is he awake?

Karma sneezes again and automatically rubs his arms. Huh. Is it just him or it suddenly cold?

Karma looks down his arms and notes the goosebumps dotting his skin. Geez, did the temperature drop outside or something?

Weird. He better not be getting sick. There’s way too much crap he needs to deal with at work.

Karma grumbles under his breath and slides out from the covers. He immediately winces as soon his feet touches the icy floor. Shit. Socks. Where are his socks?

Karma half shuffles and half tiptoes to the closet where he hurriedly yanks on some socks and the first sweatshirt he can find.

The warmth immediately envelops his body and Karma sighs in satisfaction. Right. Back to sleep then.

* * *

 

Karma wakes up again and squints at the clock.

4 am.

Oh, what the absolute fuck?

He sits up with a groan and immediately cringes at the cold air that bites at his cheeks. What the hell? Why is it freezing in here?

Karma can even see his breath coming out. He clutches the covers and cranes his neck towards the sudden rush of cold air flowing over him. He narrows his eyes. It’s coming from the vents.

Why the hell is the AC on?

Karma runs his face tiredly before he reluctantly gets up and trudges out of his room. Where was the thermostat again?

Downstairs. On the opposite wall of the side closet. Karma stifles a yawn as he crosses the living room and squints at the thermostat.

40 degrees Fahrenheit? He frowns. Who turned it down so low? Actually, who turned it on in the first place?

Asano, Karma decides. It’s definitely Asano. Who else can be demented enough to turn on the AC in the middle of autumn?

Karma sighs and jabs his finger at the button. And then again. And again. And again.

To his dismay, the temperature doesn’t change. He frowns. Are all the appliances in the apartment suddenly against him?

Karma reaches out and presses the off switch. As if to spite him, the AC’s fans suddenly whirl even louder and Karma watches as the number further drops.

Karma stares silently at the stubborn thermostat for a minute before he groans and turns to walk back up the stairs. This time, though, he doesn’t go to his room but the room next to his.

He carefully turns the doorknob and steps in. Karma surveys the room quickly. Everything is neat. Books meticulously shelved. A row of color coded binders organized on the desk. Figures. It’s Asano, after all.

Speaking of which, Karma glances towards the bed where he can see a body shaped lump under the dark green covers. He raises an eyebrow. Seriously, how is Asano not cold?

He shakes his head and strides over to the bed, hand reaching out to shake Asano by the shoulder. “Hey, Asano. Asano. Asano ~.”

There’s a strange sense of deja-vu here except he’s not the one being rudely woken up here.

For once.

Smirking a little now, Karma hums and deliberately drawls, “Asa-no. Oh, Asano. Wakey-wakey.”

There’s a muffled groan before a hand blindly reaches out to push away and Asano rasps out in irritation, “For god’s sakes, what?”

 “It’s cold.”

Asano turns away from him and delves deeper into the covers. “Get a blanket.”

“I did.”

“Get two.”

Karma taps his foot and says impatiently, “That’s not the issue here.”

There’s a pause before Asano grumbles, voice still husky with sleep, “Then what is?”

“The AC’s on.”

“Turn it off.”

“I can’t. The thermostat is stuck,” Karma explains, a little annoyed now because shit if it’s 4am, then he only has 4 more hours of sleep.

“Fix it.”

Karma stares exasperatedly at Asano for a moment before he remarks dryly, “That’s very insightful of you.”  He jabs Asano in the back and complains, “Oi, aren’t you freezing? Wake up already and turn the stupid thing off.”

“Nnm.” Asano scoots away from Karma’s hand and turns his head firmly into the pillow.

Karma’s eye twitches. Seriously?

He reaches out and flings away the covers. Karma watches smugly with a grin as Asano immediately flinches and curses in dismay.

Asano sits up with a groan, eyes blearily roving around the room. “Why is it so cold?”

Karma tilts his head and takes a moment to survey Asano curiously. It’s rare to see Asano like this, dressed down in a long maroon sleeved shirt and dark grey sweats, normally neat hair disheveled and messy, and violet eyes still hazy with sleep.

Karma hums and nods towards the door, “Because the AC is on. Get with the program already, Ace-kun.”

Asano rubs his eyes before he looks up with a groan, “Where?”

Karma turns and goes down the stairs once more, Asano following close behind with muttered curses under his breath.

They stop in front of the thermostat once more. Asano reaches out and presses the buttons on the thermostat. But like before, the temperature does not rise and instead steadily decreases. He frowns and fiddles with off/on switch, flipping between the two.

Karma stifles a yawn – God, he’s so exhausted - and crosses his arms. “I already tried that, you know. It’s stuck.”

Asano does not answer and instead stares stonily at the thermostat. Karma’s lips twitch upwards. From Asano’s dark expression, it looks like the thermostat has committed the greatest offense against Asano simply by malfunctioning.

Finally, Asano sighs and says flatly, “Toolbox.”

Karma raises his eyebrows, but when Asano does not elaborate, he drawls, “Yes, Asano? What toolbox?”

Asano does not break away from his current staring contest with the thermostat and only mutters, “Get the toolbox.”

Karma blinks. “And where is the toolbox?”

Asano turns and gives him an exasperated look. “I know you have a toolbox. You sabotage things too often not to have one.”

“Are you insinuating that I did this?” Karma asks and raises an eyebrow.

At that, Asano scowls. Karma snickers and holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. And here I thought you were a morning person.”

He turns and fetches the toolbox in his room. Freezing at 4 am in the morning isn’t something he’s particularly enthusiastic about, after all.

* * *

 

Gakushuu sighs and stares balefully at the thermostat. Why the hell is the AC on in the first place?

Crazy idiot.

Akabane finally comes back and puts down the red toolbox on the floor. “Here you go, Ace-kun.”

Gakushuu glances at him sideways and notes the dark smudges under Akabane’s reddening eyes. Akabane looks as miserable as Gakushuu feels, which isn’t comforting as it sounds because that just means they’re both freezing like idiots in the apartment.

He sighs and leans down to grab a screwdriver. This shouldn’t be hard, right?

Gakushuu takes off the cover and pauses. Damn it. Why are there so many wires? What’s the first thing he’s supposed to check again? The circuit breaker?

Akabane leans against the wall and watches him. “So what’s wrong with it?”

“Mmm.” The circuit breaker looks fine. Gakushuu checks the fuse and frowns. That looks fine too. Maybe some of the wires or screws are loose?

“Do you even know what you’re looking at?”

“Mmn.” Gakushuu says absentmindedly as he leans down for a pair of pliers and another screwdriver.

Only one of the screws and wire seems loose. He frowns and tightens them. Gakushuu pauses and surveys the machinery again. That can’t be it.

“How low is the temperature? It’s freezing.”

“Mm.” Gakushuu frowns. Maybe he should switch out the batteries. God, do they even have batteries?

He looks skeptically at the toolbox before bending down and rummaging through it.

Akabane raises an eyebrow and comments lazily, “Ace-kun, why have you devolved to monosyllabic noises? Are you already frostbitten?”

“I swear to god, if you annoy me one more time, I’ll throw this wrench at you,” Gakushuu grouses as he pushes aside the wrench and various screws inside the toolbox.

“That’s domestic violence,” Akabane remarks as he leans forward to take a closer view of the thermostat.

Gakushuu says automatically, “Don’t touch it.”

Akabane pauses and glances down. “Why?”

Gakushuu frowns as he digs under the screwdrivers – Damn it. There aren’t any batteries here – before he replies, “Because knowing you, you broke the thermostat in the first place.”

Akabane raises an eyebrow and says exasperately, “I did not do it.”

Gakushuu stops rummaging and looks up flatly. He deadpans, “Then why am I not convinced?”

Akabane leans back against the wall, arms crossed, and replies disinterestedly, “Ace-kun, do I look like a therapist? Your trust issues are too complex for me to solve.”

“I’ll throw this entire tool box at you,” Gakushuu growls before adding, “And stop calling me that.”

“Please do,” Akabane drawls and waves a hand carelessly in the air. “Then I can report you for assault and we can stop this charade of being roommates.”

Gakushuu shakes his head before he stares back at the thermostat. “Do you have batteries?”

“For the thermostat?” Akabane glances thoughtfully at it before shrugging. “Maybe. Let me check.”

Gakushuu waits as Akabane strides up the stairs. It takes a while before Akabane emerges again with a victorious expression. “I found them in my desk.”

Gakushuu nods and reaches out to grab them.

It takes another couple of minutes until Gakushuu finishes screwing the cover in place. He sighs and drops the tools back into the tool box. “There. I fixed it.”

“Then why is the air conditioning still on?” Akabane asks skeptically.

Gakushuu blinks and follows Akabane’s gaze to the AC compressor located on the opposite side of the living room. He can clearly hear the rumble and whir of the AC, the cold air still blasting through the vents…

“Guess it’s not the thermostat that’s broken then,” Akabane notes dryly.

Oh, for god’s sakes.

Gakushuu grits his teeth. He straightens up with a growl and stalks over to the phone. “I’m calling a technician.”

* * *

 

“He’ll come over in a half hour,” Asano mutters before he turns and disappears upstairs.

Karma raises both his eyebrows in surprise. He’s not sure how Asano managed to find a technician who would be willing to come over at 4:30 am.

Asano must have either bribed or threatened the poor guy.

Eh, probably both.

Karma sighs and thinks for a moment. They’ll still be freezing in the apartment for another half hour though. Should he go back to his room and sleep?

Before Karma can decide, he sees Asano trudging down the stairs with his bed covers in his arms. Asano grumbles something undecipherable before he stalks into the living room and sits down on the sofa.

Karma looks over him curiously and walks over to the sofa. “What are you doing?”

“Hmm?” Asano frowns as he leans back and yanks up the covers over him. It takes a moment for him to register Karma’s question and he sighs wearily. “Waiting for the technician, of course. I have to let him into the apartment, don’t I?”

“And to check his work too, no doubt.” Karma adds. Asano shrugs and closes his eyes, but his wordless answer is confirmation enough.

Karma eyes Asano for a moment before he shrugs. He climbs over the back of the sofa and drops carelessly down on the empty cushion with a soft thump. Asano makes a small noise of dissatisfaction from besides Karma. He cracks open an eye and asks warily, “What are you doing?”

Karma drawls, “Keeping you company, of course. Aren’t you thankful?”

“No,” Asano says flatly with a remarkably unimpressed stare.

Karma shrugs and answers indifferently, “You look like you’re going to doze off any second. And I can’t sleep when it’s this cold anyways.”

He pauses before yanking the part of Asano’s covers dragging on the ground up onto the sofa and over himself.

Asano grunts at the rush of cold air that slips in briefly before he murmurs without any real bite, “Go get your own blanket.”

“Too much effort,” Karma answers as he readjusts the covers and settles back, legs on the sofa and stretched over the empty space to his right.

Asano must really be tired because he doesn’t argue any further and only mutters, “Suit yourself.”

“How generous of you,” Karma mumbles before yawning sleepily. He squints at the clock and wonders if he’s going to be able to sleep at all after this. The technician might be late and the repairs could extend for another half hour or even longer.

That’s….Damn, he might still be awake when the sun comes up.

Asano stays silent and when Karma glances sideways at him, he has his left cheek against his palm, elbow resting on top of the armrest and eyelids fluttering close.

Karma sighs and shifts back against the sofa. Yeah, Asano definitely is going to doze off any minute now. He pulls the covers up closer, trying to ignore how the familiar scent of Asano’s body wash wafts up again, crisp and pleasant.

A little too pleasant, Karma thinks because it swirls hazily with the warm heat he can feel radiating from Asano himself sitting beside him. He feels oddly comfortable, the sudden urge to sleep and nuzzle into the covers irrepressible as exhaustion crashes over him once again.

Damn. He might fall asleep after all. Karma forces himself to blink his eyes open. He can’t fall asleep. What would be the point of him sitting here in the first place?

He frowns and fishes for the remote on the coffee table. Maybe some TV will help.

Karma pushes the on button and immediately flinches at the sudden loud dialogue shattering the still air. Shit. Shit. He curses again under his breath, fingers fumbling for the remote again to turn down the volume.

Karma quickly glances at Asano, but he has his head slumped down, eyelids closed and lips slightly parted.

Looks like he really did doze off.

Karma pauses and watches Asano curiously. The usual sharpness of Asano’s face fades away, softened by slumber. He notes the tired creases under Asano’s eyes though and thinks of the nights this week that Asano came home even later than Karma did.

Which is an achievement all on its own. Really.

Maybe he should wake Asano up so he can go and sleep properly in his room. Because seriously, at least one of them should be catching up on sleep.

Karma eyes Asano for another moment before sighing. Then again, knowing Asano’s stubbornness, he’ll wake up only to wait it out in the living room.

He’ll wake Asano when the technician gets up then, Karma decides. He settles back against the sofa and glances at the clock.

4:45 am.

Damn.

* * *

 

Karma is squinting blearily at an infomercial for a blender…..or….an exercise weight….He can’t really tell when the doorbell rings.

He should be relieved but really, he’s just so comfortable right now. And getting up to answer the door is just….He doesn’t want to do it.

Karma glances back at Asano who’s still slumbering on, oblivious to the world. He winces at Asano’s position. That’s going to give him a crick in the neck later.

The doorbell rings again. Karma groans. He reaches behind him and grabs a pillow, gingerly nestling it under Asano’s head without disturbing him, before getting up reluctantly.

He shakes his head and grumbles. Soft. Sleep deprivation is definitely making him soft.

Karma shivers. He can already feel the lingering warmth on his skin evaporating in the frigid air. God, he misses the covers already.

He peers out the peek hole and sees a rather skittish man in his early twenties or so with short black hair and glasses. Must be the electrician then.

Karma undoes the deadbolt and unlocks the door. The man jumps a little as the door suddenly swings open. He clears his throat and says a little out of breath, “I’m Sugawara? The er, technician? I was called to, um, fix the AC.”

Karma raises an eyebrow as he takes in the man’s dark blue hoodie, red plaid pajama pants with a utility belt hastily wrapped around his waist. He looks like he just bolted out of bed and raced over here. What exactly did Asano say over the phone anyways?

The man shifts uncomfortably under Karma’s stare and hefts the black tool box in his hand. He asks unsurely, “Am I at the right apartment? Asano-san lives here, doesn’t he? ” The man hesitates, glancing back at Karma, and continues, “Actually, who –who are you?”

Karma steps aside to let the man through and answers, “I’m his roommate.”

He pivots and trudges back towards the living room with a yawn. Without looking back, Karma points to where the AC compressor is and says tiredly, “The AC won’t turn off. We already checked the thermostat.”

At the lack of response, Karma looks back in confusion to see the technician stopping in the middle of the living room to glance curiously at Asano sleeping on the sofa. Karma clears his throat.

At the sound, the man visibly jumps and Karma smiles slightly as he points towards the AC.

“Ah, yes. I’m sorry. The AC, you said?” Sugawara ducks his head and scrambles towards the AC. He quickly sets down the toolbox and opens it. “Has it been going on like this all night?”

Karma leans heavily against the wall and nods blearily. “Yeah. Do you know what’s wrong with it?”

Sugawara frowns and says distractedly, “Not yet. Let me check the components first.”

“Mmn.” Karma stifles another yawn and sleepily watches Sugawara tinker with the parts.

His eyelids feel increasingly heavy and it takes everything in Karma not to stagger and doze off right there. He blinks and frowns. God, he’s so sleepy. What is it now? 5 am?

Sugawara frowns and observes, “I think the condenser coils are damaged.”

Karma has to blink again before he registers Sugawara speaking. “Hmm? Can you repeat that?”

Sugawara smiles politely and repeats patiently, “The condenser coils need to be replaced.”

Karma sees Sugawara’s mouth move, but the words register as sounds flitting through one ear and out the other. He rubs his eyes and says a little helplessly, “The what again?”

Sugawara pauses and surveys him for a moment before he says kindly, “I can take care of this. You um, look exhausted, so why don’t you rest for a moment? I’ll inform you if there’s anything else I need.”

Karma eyes him for a moment. The guy is a bit skittish, sure, but he knows what he’s doing. And that’s good enough for Karma.

He nods slowly and yawns again. “Alright. Then, I’ll leave it to you.”

He walks back to the sofa and sinks back down in his spot, sighing in relief at the cocoon of warmth that wraps over his skin. Karma glances back at Asano. Still asleep.

He tugs up the covers and relaxes, eyelids already closing shut. Just a few minutes of rest and he can –

* * *

 

Karma wakes blearily to a hand shaking his shoulder. He groans softly. Asano again?

He blinks slowly and peers up in confusion. Wait, this isn’t Asano. This is – Ah, that’s right, the technician.

Eyelids still heavy with sleep, Karma murmurs, “Are you finished?”

Sugawara nods and says softly as if not to disturb either of them, “I fixed the AC and um, turned on the heater to warm up the apartment a bit.”

Karma stares at him blankly before the words register and he nods slowly. “Thank you. Do you -” He pauses and yawns before he continues, “Do you want your payment now? Or do I have to send it to a company or something?”

Karma squints to see if there is a company emblem on the guy’s shirt, but the colors blur fuzzily in a wash of blues and grays and he blinks again blearily. Sugawara must have taken pity on him because he moves to say hurriedly, “Ah, you don’t have to get up. I’ll, um, send a bill later.”

Sugawara stands up and collects his tools. After another glance towards Karma and Asano, he adds kindly, “I’ll lock the door as I leave.” He bows quickly and places a business card on the coffee table. “Please call me if there are any further problems with the AC.”

Karma blinks sleepily as the door clicks shut. He yawns again and snuggles deeper into the covers, eyelids already fluttering down. He’ll have to remind Asano to give the poor guy a tip or something...

* * *

 

Gakushuu wakes up slowly as his mind drags itself from the dark inkiness of sleep. He groans and blinks blearily. The living room?

Shit. The technician. He widens his eyes in realization. Did the technician come?

Asano moves to get up but immediately stops when he finally registers the warm, solid pressure resting against his right shoulder. He furrows his eyebrows and stares down only to see a mop of red hair tickling his neck.

Asano blinks. Akabane?

He blinks again and stares bewilderedly down, but Akabane is still there, head resting innocently on his shoulder, fast asleep. Asano raises an eyebrow. He reaches out, intent on shaking Akabane awake when his eyes catch the business card on the coffee table.

Oh.

Akabane must have stayed up to let the technician in. The apartment feels warmer too, a little too warm, so the heater must be on. The AC is fixed then.

Gakushuu holds himself perfectly still and carefully glances down at Akabane again. Why didn’t Akabane wake him or go to his actual bed?

There is a pillow nestled to the end of the sofa to keep his neck from aching that Gakushuu doesn’t remember placing himself either. Gakushuu pauses and stares at Akabane again.

Huh. So even Akabane has his moments of kindness.

It’s a little off-putting and Gakushuu, dumbfounded, surveys Akabane again.

Should he wake Akabane up or ease out and let Akabane catch up on what looks like much needed sleep?

Gakushuu hesitates and turns to glance at the clock. Shit. It’s 10 am. And while Gakushuu considers that late, he’s the CEO of his company, so it’s not like anyone will or can berate him for coming into work late.

Akabane on the other hand…

Gakushuu sighs and reaches out to shake Akabane lightly. “Akabane, you need to wake up.” He does it again. “Wake up.”

Akabane frowns and murmurs indistinctly, hand reaching up to blindly swat away Gakushuu’s hand. Gakushuu shakes him again a bit more impatiently. “Wake up. You’re going to be late.”

Er, well, he’s already late.

Akabane lets out another noise of discomfort before he turns even more into Gakushuu’s side, cheek pressed against his shoulder. Gakushuu automatically freezes and glances down. The sight brings to mind the image of a sleepy cat, and Gakushuu’s expression unconsciously relaxes.

An uncharacteristic wave of sympathy washes over him, and Gakushuu’s usual sharp words are shed off in favor for a soft tone that surprises even him. “Akabane, you really need to wake up if you want to go to work today.”

This time, Akabane’s eyes twitch as he murmurs sleepily, “What?”

Gakushuu shakes him again and watches as Akabane starts to wake up, eyelids blinking open. He notes the unusual clear, lightened hue of gold in Akabane’s eyes. He doesn’t think he can remember Akabane looking so unguarded or calm before.

When Akabane closes his eyes again though, Gakushuu repeats, “Akabane, wake up.”

Karma stirs at the low cadence of Asano’s voice rumbling across his skin. He blinks and stares uncomprehendingly at a pair of violet eyes staring steadfastly back. Asano? What’s he doing here?

Karma notes the odd expression in Asano’s eyes – He can’t quite place it - before he takes in his position with furrowed eyebrows. Say, aren’t they too close?

 Gakushuu watches, slightly amused, as Akabane’s eyes widen in realization and he immediately removes himself from Gakushuu’s shoulder.

Akabane scratches the back of his neck sheepishly and comments, “Guess I dozed off, huh?”

To Karma’s surprise, Gakushuu does not make any snide comments and instead says simply in that same mild tone, “You should go wash up and get ready if you want to head off too work today.”

Karma idly wonders at Gakushuu’s strange act of leniency before he glances at the clock and freezes in dismay. Shit. It’s already 10. Damn it, does he have a meeting today or is that tomorrow?

He immediately leaps up and runs towards the stairs. Geez, he can’t believe he overslept.

Meanwhile, Gakushuu looks up at the ceiling and frowns. He can still feel the lingering imprint of heat on his shoulder.

* * *

 

They don’t talk of that morning for different reasons.

Gakushuu doesn’t quite know what to make of it.

And Karma chalks the whole thing up to sleep deprivation. No one acts like themselves when they’re sleep deprived, right?

* * *

 

Time: Two Days After

Karma leans against the wall and hums as Asano jabs the key into the mailbox lock again. “Come on, Ace-kun. How hard is it to open the mailbox?”

Asano furrows his eyebrows and questions, “Are you sure this is our mailbox?”

Karma tilts his head and points to the number plate on the mailbox. “Can’t you read numbers, Ace-kun? Or is your eyesight already failing at 25?”

Asano glares at him before leaning down again and muttering, “You better not have switched the number plates.”

“You’re too paranoid.” Karma comments as he watches Asano twist the key again with another grimace.

“I think the lock is stuck.”

“Mmm,” Karma hums as he regards the lock speculatively. “Why don’t you let me try?”

Asano turns and shoots him an exasperated look. “Have you not been watching me trying to open it with the key? I _said_ , that the lock is stuc – Hey!”

Karma shoves Asano aside and says cheerfully, “Who said that I’ll use the key?”

Gakushuu scowls at the shove and asks patronizingly, “And what exactly are you going to use then?”

Akabane’s eyes suddenly gleam brightly and Gakushuu automatically knows that whatever Akabane is thinking is definitely not a good idea. Akabane grins and dangles two bobby pins with his fingers. “With these, of course.”

See? Gakushuu blinks before he raises an eyebrow. “You’re going to break into our own mailbox?”

Akabane hums and shrugs, fingers already deftly working the pins into the lock.

Gakushuu shakes his head and leans against the row of mailboxes. “If anyone sees you, I’m going to pretend I don’t know you.”

“Sure, sure, paranoid Ace-kun,” Akabane says dismissively as he tinkers with the lock.

There is a sudden metal click and Akabane grins again as the he opens the mail-box. “Tada. See? That’s why you shouldn’t – Oh ? What do we have here?”

At Akabane’s comment, Gakushuu turns and leans down only to stare blankly at the insides of the mailbox. There’s a bright red liquid smeared all over the container and damn it, all over their mail too.

Gakushuu narrows his eyes at the words painted on the inside of the mailbox door: Get Out Already!

Again? What the hell is this?

Akabane’s hand suddenly darts out and Gakushuu warns, “Don’t touch -”

“It,” He finishes exasperatedly as Akabane rubs the liquid between his fingers.

Akabane tilts his head and observes curiously, “It’s corn syrup.”

“That’s nice,” Gakushuu says sarcastically before he points to the mailbox in irritation. “What the hell is it doing in our mailbox?”

Akabane hums with a grin and answers matter-of-factly, “It’s supposed to be blood, of course.”

Gakushuu says sardonically, “Yes, _of course_. It’s blood. Why didn’t I think of that?” He shakes his head and rebukes sharply, “Are you insane?”

Akabane ignores him and scrutinizes the substance again. “It’s not even _good_ fake blood. The consistency is all wrong.”

Gakushuu stares at Akabane before he rubs his temples and grumbles, “I don’t know if I should be disturbed or annoyed that you think fake blood has to have standards.”

Akabane shakes his head and points out condescendingly, “Of course, it does, Ace-kun. If it’s not authentic, it loses all effects.”

Well, that answers his question on Akabane’s sanity.

Zero. He has zero sanity.

“Right.” Gakushuu manages not to roll his eyes and reaches out to pull out the mail gingerly out of the mailbox. Not that it makes a difference. The documents are soaked with the fake blood and Gakushuu looks through them with an increasingly twitching eye.

How the hell is he supposed to read these letters now?

Gakushuu looks up and growls, “Did you do this?”

Akabane raises an eyebrow before he scoffs, “I’m insulted. This is a kid’s prank, Ace-kun. A completely mediocre one. Do you know how many ways I could have improved this?” He jabs the mailbox and continues, eyes flashing almost manically, “For starters, I would have mixed a decent batch of fake blood. Add a severed limb and a gelatin heart or two for effects. Of course, if I really wanted to amp up the gore, I could have just gone to the butcher for actual pig’s blood and some intestines-”

“Alright, alright. I get it.” Gakushuu cuts in quickly before Akabane could elaborate anymore. “If it was you, you would made our mail box an x-rated crime scene. Lovely. Now can you stop talking about putting organs in our mailbox? The kid over there looks like he’s going to cry any moment now.”

Akabane pauses and turns to glance at a boy standing six mailboxes over, eyes wide open in horror, mouth ajar, and hand tightly gripping white envelopes. Akabane blinks and before he can say anything, the boy takes one look at their mailbox before yelping and sprinting off in the opposite direction.

Akabane tilts his head, the barest hint of a smirk on his lips, as he says innocently, “What? Was it something I said?”

Gakushuu gives him a look and deadpans, “You’re just asking to be hit right now, aren’t you?”

Akabane waves a hand in the air and quips, “How mean. I’m just spreading the holiday cheer around.”

“You won’t be saying that when that child’s mother comes over to lecture you,” Gakushuu grumbles as he flips through the envelopes with disgust. “We won’t be able to read any of this.”

“Hey, do you think this is the same person who messed with the silverware?”

Gakushuu frowns at one of the envelopes nearly torn in half because of how soggy the paper is before he glances at Akabane. “What? What do you mean?”

Akabane points to the message. “Sound familiar?”

Gakushuu pauses and furrows his eyebrows. “What are you talking about? _You_ pulled the whole silverware disappearance act.”

Akabane immediately frowns and crosses his arms in exasperation. “Ne, Asano, is there something wrong with your ears? I keep telling you that I. Didn’t. Do. It.”

“So what? Someone broke into our apartment _and_ our mailbox?” Gakushuu demands.

Karma blinks at that and they both pause at the implications.

There’s no way that someone can do that and for neither of them not to notice…right?

Karma rubs the back of his neck and shrugs, “Well, it’s just a prank. Someone probably got too enthusiastic celebrating the Halloween spirit.”

Asano narrows his eyes and says skeptically, “You mean a felony. It’s illegal to break into someone’s home or mail.” He pauses and frowns. “And Halloween isn’t for another few weeks.”

The obaachan’s words suddenly flash through Karma’s mind again. Cycle of tenants….Hmm.

“This might be a hazing of sorts. We are new neighbors, after all,” Karma offers as he closes the mailbox.

“I don’t want to meet our neighbors then. Not if there is the possibility that they might be even more insufferable than you,” Asano retorts as he starts walking back to their apartment.

Karma snickers as he follows after. “I think I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Please don’t.”

* * *

 

Gakushuu sighs, one hand tossing the keys on the coffee table and the other placing his briefcase next to it. He deftly undoes his tie and sheds off both his jacket and blazer. If tomorrow’s deadline is pushed again, Gakushuu might start dropping some hints about upcoming job evaluations.

Nothing like proper motivation than the threat of a pink slip, after all.

Gakushuu shakes his head and undoes his cuffs. Rolling them up to his elbows, he walks into the kitchen and pauses at the scene. The cutting board is out, covered in what looks like the peeled skin of carrots, potatoes, and some scraps of sliced onions. The spice cupboard is wide open too with several opened spice bottles on the counter.

Is Akabane cooking?

He glances around but Akabane is nowhere to be seen….and…. the stove is still on.

…Who the hell leaves the stove on without attending to it?

He quickly walks over to the stove and cautiously peers into the pot. It looks like some sort of vegetable soup and more importantly – surprisingly – actually edible. So Akabane can cook after all.

Huh.

The broth is simmering, not boiling though, so Gakushuu merely fishes out a ladle to stir it. He calls out, “Akabane! You do remember that you’re cooking something here, don’t you? Or are you trying to burn down our apartment?”

“I’m in here,” comes a muffled reply in what sounds like….Gakushuu furrows his eyebrows. The laundry room?

He puts down the ladle and walks around the corner into the laundry room in the back.

Gakushuu sees Akabane sitting on the ground, cross-legged. He’s idly bouncing a rubber ball with one hand and resting his cheek in the palm of the other.

Akabane does not even look up at Gakushuu’s entrance though and continues staring pensively at the washing machine, eyebrows furrowed and lips twisted downwards.

Gakushuu raises an eyebrow and remarks, “Are you contemplating life or doing laundry?”

Akabane blinks, hand catching the ball, and turns his head back. He surveys Gakushuu for a moment before sighing and saying almost petulantly, “Help.”

Gakushuu blinks before answering dryly, “Don’t tell me you don’t know how to use the washing machine again.”

Akabane shrugs. “I know how to use it, Ace-kun. It just won’t cooperate with me.”

“So you say.” Gakushuu shakes his head. He’s a bit tempted to leave Akabane to figure it out on his own, but then again, considering how Akabane’s solution last time was to swing a fire poker…that doesn’t seem like a wise decision.

Instead, he sigh and reaches out towards the dial pad. “Here, let me. And watch what I do, for god’s sakes.”

He presses the button and adjusts the dial. To his surprise and Akabane’s ever flattening gaze, the familiar rumble of the washing machine does not start. Gakushuu blinks before he tugs out the detergent container. “You put detergent in already, right?”

“Yup.”

“And the washing machine is connected to the electrical outlet?” Gakushuu asks as he leans over and peers behind it.

“Yup.”

“Did you try resetting it?”

“Yup.”

Gakushuu frowns and opens the door. “Is there anything stuck inside?”

Akabane tilts his head lazily and intones dryly, “Ace-kun, why do you keep asking me questions on things I’ve already done?” He waves towards the washing machine again and continues, tone disinterested and flat, “Besides, you can see for yourself, can’t you?”

Gakushuu shoots him a look before surveying the washing machine again. Strange. First the AC and now the washing machine….

He turns and crosses his arms. Narrowing his eyes, Gakushuu asks suspiciously, “Ok, what did you do?”

Akabane’s eyes widen in disbelief and he protests, “Hah? I didn’t do anything!”

“Nothing?” Gakushuu repeats skeptically.

“Nothing!” Akabane objects, golden eyes flashing indignantly. He jabs a thumb towards the washing machine and adds aggravated, “I just pressed the buttons.”

“What buttons?” Gakushuu asks warily as he glances towards the washing machine.

He knew it. He should have hung a sign or post-it note on the washing machine in the first place. Seriously. How can someone be this inept with home appliances?

As if Akabane can read this thoughts, he rolls his eyes and points. “This one, Ace-kun. Happy?”

“Just that one?” Gakushuu frowns. Weird. That’s just the start button.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

Karma, by some miracle, manages not to roll his eyes again – even though he really wants to - and says sardonically, “Do you want to pinky swear? Would that somehow relieve your blatant mistrust of me?”

Honestly. What’s with Asano arbitrarily accusing him of sabotaging things he has not done? It’s not like he spends all his waking moments waging a war against all of the appliances in their apartment.

Karma turns and stares balefully at the washing machine. Seriously, what the hell is up with the appliances in their apartment?

Asano ignores him and surveys the washing machine again. “It seems like your grudge with appliances is mutual.”

“You can’t fix it?” Karma furrows his eyebrows in dismay and comments, “Ace-kun, I’m disappointed. Where is your usual insightful knowledge on household appliances?”

“That’s what technicians are for,” Asano retorts, already pulling out his cellphone and walking out.

“Mm, what about my clothes, Ace-kun?” Karma calls out. The washing machine malfunction is not an option because he’s out of clean clothes.

He really needs to do his laundry more regularly.

Asano pauses and looks back, eyes flicking from the clothes in the washing machine and back to Karma. He furrows his eyebrows and wonders aloud, “What are you talking about? Aren’t you just going to steal from my closet again?”

Karma blinks and Asano walks out again without waiting for a reply.

He runs a hand through his hair and smiles wryly. Man, he must really be tired not to have thought of that in the first place. He’s definitely losing his edge.

With his usual grin returning, Karma walks out with a chuckle. It’s a little funny how Asano already expects that of him.

 

* * *

 

Time: Three days after

Gakushuu barely has his hand on the doorknob when he hears a loud crash echoing from behind the door. He pauses and stares at the door apprehensively. God, if Akabane broke another appliance, it’ll be the third time he’d have to call a technician in a single week.

That is a record that no one needs to reach.

He takes a breath and opens the door cautiously. Stepping in and shrugging off his shoes, Gakushuu walks into the living room only to freeze at the sight of Akabane crouched on top of the sofa’s armrest, dressed in a pink apron, yellow rubber gloves, a black bandanna over his mouth, and what looks like a fishing net in his hand.

Gakushuu blinks and wonders if it’s too late to back out slowly of the apartment and pretend that he never ever lived here. Because, oh, ho, he’s definitely _not_ going to be the one to explain this to the cops when their neighbors call it in.

As it is, he settles for taking a small step back and asking warily, “Akabane?”

“Yes?” Akabane answers distracted as he seems strangely occupied with scanning the floor.

Lost it. Akabane has seriously lost it.

Gakushuu asks slowly, “What on earth are you doing?”

Akabane opens his mouth to reply before his eyes suddenly narrow and a sharp catlike grin stretches across his face. Gakushuu barely catches the sharp gleam of gold before Akabane lunges and slams the net on the ground.

**_Thwack!_ **

Gakushuu reflexively flinches back as Akabane straightens and grins victoriously. He holds out the pole and nods towards a white, furry – is that a _mouse_? – squirming and squeaking in the net.

Gakushuu blinks, speechless.

“I’m doing pest control,” Akabane answers, referring to Gakushuu’s previous question with another grin. He ambles over towards a cardboard box in the ground and drops the mouse into the box before fitting a lid with small punched out holes on top.

Gakushuu balks at the sound of squeaking he can hear from the box. That…sounded like more than one mouse. As in plural. As in mice.

God, they have _mice_ in the apartment?

He drags his gaze from the trembling box to Akabane’s unperturbed face. He knew it. Should have just backed away from the apartment when he had the chance to.

Gakushuu eyes the stack of fallen CDs and the books on the floor. That must have been the sound of the crash.

He takes a deep breath and rubs his temples. “You know you could have just called an exterminator.”

Akabane shrugs and hums, “It’s more efficient if I do it myself.”

Gakushuu doesn’t argue. He doesn’t have the energy to deal with this.

And it’s probably true anyways, especially judging by the box that’s standing next to Akabane’s feet.

Gakushuu sighs and briskly pulls out his phone. “I’ll call animal control then.” He walks carefully past the box – and Akabane – and strides straight into the kitchen. Looking at the list of important city phone numbers on the fridge, Gakushuu quickly dials the number.

As he waits for the phone to pick up, he calls out, “Also, make sure you burn everything you’re wearing.”

“Eh?” Akabane straightens and tilts his head with a growing smirk. “Don’t tell me Ace-kun is afraid of a cute little mouse?”

“I’m not.” Gakushuu states firmly and shoots him a pointed glare before elaborating, “I’m just not fond of rabies.” Gakushuu pauses as a thought strikes him and he covers the phone to ask warily, “You didn’t get bitten, did you?”

Akabane grins and opens his arms. “Do you want to check?”

Gakushuu frowns, eyes narrowing, as he threatens, “I’ll march you straight to the hospital right now.”

Akabane snickers before answering amusedly, “How caring. I’m fine, Ace-kun. Don’t get a stroke over nothing.”

Gakushuu scans him once more before he slowly nods and accedes. “Fine.” He eyes the living room, wrecked once again, and mutters, “I’m calling a maid too.”

Seriously, _mice_?

* * *

 

As it is, neither of them knows where the mice came from or how they got in.

More importantly, none of their neighbors seemed to have any pest control problems either.

Of course, that doesn’t stop Asano from hiring an exterminator just to make sure or from buying a shitload of mouse traps.

…Which Karma may or may not have been too enthusiastic in placing all over the house, judging by Asano’s current death glare.

Karma grins and dabs the alcohol on Asano’s finger with a cotton ball. “I said, I’m sorry. You can stop trying to murder me with your eyes.”

“I hate you,” Asano growls, eyes narrowed and darkened with aggravation. “I seriously hate you.”

Karma shrugs and peers down at the finger. It’s slightly bleeding, but that’s more from the grazed skin than any serious cut. It’s fine. It’ll heal in a few days.

He reaches out for the Band-Aid and comments, “I didn’t expect you to clean behind the dryer.”

Because, seriously who does?

Asano scowls and rebukes, “Why did you put a mousetrap behind there in the first place?”

“Because it’s the perfect nook for a mouse to hide in. Plus, the dryer is warm,” Karma answers matter-of-factly as he tries to peel off the Band-Aid.

Asano stays silent, contemplating Karma’s answer for a moment until he adds stubbornly, “You could have at least mentioned it.”

“You could have not cleaned behind the dryer too,” Karma points out, a little exasperated. He frowns at the band-aid that he somehow ripped in half and reaches out for another one.  “Seriously, Asano. Why did you bother to hire a maid if you’re going to do the housework regardless?”

Asano says flatly, “So it would have better if the maid was injured?”

“I didn’t say that,” Karma answers and pokes Asano’s hand in retaliation. “And, stop distracting me. Can’t you see I’m trying to give you first aid?”

“Even though this is your fault?” Asano grumbles before he looks askance at Karma struggling to peel off the second band-aid. “And why is it taking long for you to put on a band-aid?”

“It’s a delicate process, Ace-kun. Much like your sensitivity. Now stop bother-”

Karma stops and stares at the band-aid that’s now ripped along with the waxy strip. Are these band-aids old or something? Why are they all glued stuck to the waxy film?

Asano remarks wryly, “Can you not open a band-aid? Should I do it myself?”

“Fine,” Karma huffs and rummages through the first aid kit. He digs out the roll of gauze and hums, “I’ll use this instead. Come on, stick out your finger.”

“I hurt my finger, not my arm. You – Oi, what are you doing? Seriously – The scrape is not even an inch! Why the hell are you using three feet of gauze?!”

“Can the patient please stop annoying the doctor here?”

* * *

 

Time: 1 days after

Karma blinks as he steps inside the apartment. There are piles of shirts and pants littering the floor, jackets strewn over the sofa, and boxers randomly hanging over the light fixtures. It’s like his closet barfed out all its contents into the living room.

Karma toes a stray sock on the floor and questions idly. “Asano, why are all of my clothes thrown over the living room?”

“Why are you asking me?” Asano grumbles as he closes the door. He takes one look at the scene before his face creases in resignation. Asano then leans down with a sigh and picks up a fallen black sweatshirt, commenting wearily, “If anything, an ex-girlfriend would make for a far better suspect.”

“Ace-kun, don’t mistake your personal life with mine,” Karma automatically quips as he peers at the pile of collared shirts. Hmm, those don’t seem like his. “Hey, Ace-kun. Aren’t these yours?”

Karma dangles one of the white shirts in the air and Asano’s expression immediately turns stony.

Karma hums. So it is then. He turns back to Asano with a sharp grin, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That someone trespassed into our apartment without us noticing?” Asano asks smoothly, words curling with a hint of irritation.

Karma’s smirk widens and he drawls, “How insulting.”

Asano’s lips twitch briefly before he replies with eyes glittering with promised retaliation. “For once, I agree with you.”

They both exchange a look before Asano pulls out his cell phone out, fingers already pressing buttons, as he says, “I’m upgrading our security.”

Karma is already striding out the door, calling out over his shoulder, “They have cameras in the elevator, right? I’m going to check the footage.”

He does not wait for Asano’s answer, but Karma can already hear him ordering a locksmith to head over to their apartment immediately.

Karma grins to himself, hands tucked in his pockets as he saunters back into the elevator. Now then.

Time to play detective for a bit.

* * *

 

The security guard lets him watch the CCTV without any fuss. Karma drums his fingers idly on the table as he scans the footage shrewdly. There is not anyone who took the elevator up to the top floor today.

Hmm. Interesting.

He glances over at the security guard, a brown-haired man in his forties or so, and narrows his eyes ever so slightly at the man’s resigned expression. Karma tilts his head and asks curiously, “Has something like this happened before?”

The security guard immediately jumps a little, eyes darting nervously to Karma and then back to the footage. “No, of – of course not. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The man laughs nervously and looks away.

“Oh?” Karma says, dragging out the syllable. He tilts his head, eyes wide, and says innocently, “You know, a really kind obaasan from the floor below came to visit us the other day.”

At that, the man relaxes slightly and comments, “Ah, you mean, Suzuki-san? She really is a nice person, isn’t she?” The man pauses and looks at him. “What about her?”

Karma shrugs and says nonchalantly, “She mentioned something about a cycle of tenants.”

Immediately, the security guard coughs and says nervously, “O-Oh, she-she did?”

Bingo. Karma tilts his head with a slight smirk. “She did.”

The man looks deeply uncomfortable, but at Karma’s expectant gaze, he sighs and starts hesitantly, “The truth is…that apartment you’re staying in is….” He stops and leans in to whisper, “Haunted.”

Karma blinks. Out of all the answers he was expecting, a supernatural cause really wasn’t one of them? Haunted?

Karma glances back at the man and prods, “Haunted? What do you mean by that?”

The man shrugs. “You and that roommate of yours are the, er, eighth tenants so far.” He looks around the office before continuing quietly, “Bad luck. Things never go right in that apartment.”

He sighs and waves vaguely in the air. “It always starts with the little things. Like the toaster suddenly breaking down. Light fixtures that keep flickering. There’s no more hot water. Jewelry that suddenly disappeared. Plumbing problems. You know, maintenance things.”

At the memory, the man frowns and grumbles, “Aish, you don’t know how many times I’ve been called up to investigate the apartment or call over a repairman.”

“And then?” Karma presses.

“Messages are left here and there. Furniture being moved and rearranged in weird ways. Hearing whispering or footsteps at night. The apartment always being freezing cold. Fake blood all over the floors. Dirt in the bathtub. One time, there were frogs everywhere in the living room.” The man’s expression twists at the recollection. He says unhappily, “Oh that was a pain to remove because they got into the air vents.”

Karma raises an eyebrow. They all seem like kid’s pranks to him. Surely, there’s nothing that merits conjuring up an urban myth about the penthouse being haunted. “Do they get more serious?”

The man shifts at his seat looking distinctly uncomfortable. “Well, there was this one incident…with a firecracker and a mailbox.” He widens his eyes and says hurriedly, “Not that anyone got hurt thankfully, but it scared the whole building for a week.” He shakes his head and sighs. He adds pityingly, “The poor girl moved soon after too.”

Karma says thoughtfully, “So that’s why people think that the place is haunted.”

The man frowns before starting hesitantly, “Well, there’s also - Have you heard about the original owners of this building?”

Karma raises an eyebrow and questions, “They lived in the penthouse too, right? I heard that they were the usual, old married couple who bickered with each other all the time.”

The man nods. “Yes! They er, also, um, passed away in the penthouse…”

Karma blinks before leaning in with interest. “Murdered?”

The man quickly waves his hands and explains, “Oh, no! I…phrased that wrong. They were elderly. It was just their time. The police investigated and everything, so don’t worry.” He pauses and smiles a little as he continues, “When they were alive, oh, geez, the room was practically a battlefield. They played pranks on each other all the time. Even at that age.” He chuckles and adds, “It drove the entire building crazy. Sometimes you could not tell if they loved each other or loved arguing with each other.”

At Karma’s blank expression, the guard clears his throat and elaborates, “Anyways, people say that tenants moving into the penthouse are probably just caught in the aftermath. I’m sure they’re still arguing even now.”

“I see…” Karma pauses before commenting, “Funny how the real estate agent did not mention any of this to us.”

“Ah, Yowika-san? She’s been trying for a month to sell that penthouse.”

Karma chuckles and shakes his head. “I thought she seemed a little too happy.” He glances down at the man’s uniform and says cheerfully, “Well, anyways, thank you, Hara-san.”

“Hah? I- y-yes.”

* * *

 

A haunted apartment…

Karma chuckles to himself. It sounds a bit fun actually.

He steps inside the apartment to see Asano watching over two technicians installing what looks like a front door camera and hidden surveillance cameras.

Karma lifts an eyebrow and walks over to Asano. He lets out a low whistle and comments, “You’re going all out, aren’t you?”

Asano shrugs, eyes still trained on the two workers. “Better safe than sorry.”

Karma hums and says, “No one took the elevator up to our floor except for us. But - ”

“There are no cameras in the stairwells,” Asano finishes. He shakes his head and grumbles, “Great. For all we know we have some crazy psychopath stalking us.”

Karma chuckles before drawling, “You know what they say. Like attracts like. Crazy attracts crazy.”

Asano frowns and glances over at him. “I don’t know why you’re looking at me like that when I have the exact same thoughts about you.”

Karma snickers before shaking his head. “Ne, do you want to hear an interesting story? About who lived in the apartment before us?”

* * *

 

A day later:

“Here are the files that need your immediate attention,” Yumiko says as she places a stack of documents on the tray. Gakushuu doesn’t look up from the laptop and nods his thanks.

He scrolls through his emails and frowns at the message from his development team. Construction has been delayed because of a broken water pipe?

Lovely. This week is just lovely.

A supposedly haunted apartment and inconveniences at work. It’s like he’s cursed. Perhaps it’s a side effect of living with Akabane.

 “And your coffee,” Yumiko continues. It takes a moment for Gakushuu to stop brooding and look up. Yumiko smiles patiently and holds out the coffee cup.

He reaches forward with his hand and murmurs, “Thank you.”

Gakushuu takes a careful sip, relishing the warmth and bitterness of the coffee. Thank god for caffeine.

Yumiko suddenly giggles. Gakushuu pauses and looks up back at her. He raises an eyebrow in confusion, eyes inquisitive.

But instead of commenting about the coffee, she nods towards his hand and says with an amused lilt in her voice, “That’s a rather cute band-aid, President.”

Gakushuu blinks before he stares down at his finger. The obnoxiously bright yellow band-aid all but stares back at him, complete with the winking smiley face printed on it. He inwardly groans.

Akabane and his stupid bandages with smiley faces. Why band-aids even need a facial expression in the first place, Gakushuu will never know. He can still hear Akabane’s voice chirping cheerfully, ‘ _But Ace-kun, look at how adorable it is! And it glows in the dark! Be grateful._ ’

Yeah. He’s _so_ grateful for glow-in-the-dark band-aids. That and for the whole roll of gauze Akabane needlessly wasted trying to turn him into a goddamned mummy.

So, so grateful.

At Yumiko’s expectant look, Gakushuu tries not to grimace as he says reluctantly, “Yes…well. I didn’t exactly ask for it.”

Gakushuu’s expression must have betrayed something because Yumiko laughs lightly, her gray eyes twinkling in amusement. “Girlfriend then? She must be adorable.”

His _what_?

Gakushuu freezes but Yumiko glances back at her tablet and misses the horrified look that Gakushuu gives her.

“Oh, the city urban planning committee asked for another meeting. When do you want me to schedule one?” At his silence, Yumiko glances back up and asks curiously, “Is something wrong?”

Gakushuu recovers himself and says quickly, “Ah, no. Schedule one for next Tuesday at noon.”

She nods and types quickly on the tablet. Gakushuu mentally sighs. He definitely needs more coffee.

* * *

 


	3. Trick AND Treat (Because who says you can't have both?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated with 2 chapters this time, so make sure you read the one before! Please enjoy! ^ ^

Time: 3 Days Later

Gakushuu hangs up the call and leans back against his chair.

Haunted? He mentally scoffs. There are no such thing as ghosts.

Case in point, ever since the surveillance cameras and the alarm system was installed, there has not been any unfortunate incidents or events.

Gakushuu glances at his phone. Well, whatever. In a few more days, he’ll have enough information to uncover the true culprit.

He sighs and stands up. It’s Saturday, and the fridge is woefully empty.

Again.

Grocery shopping then.

Gakushuu steps downs the stairs and heads into the living room. He glances briefly at Akabane who’s lounging on the sofa, munching on an apple and reading what looks like a black booklet.

It looks vaguely familiar.

Gakushuu shrugs and heads over to the side closet. “You know, you shouldn’t eat while lying down.”

“You nag too much, Ace-kun.” Akabane glances up at him and lifts an eyebrow. “Where are you going?”

Gakushuu leans down and slips on a pair of shoes. “Grocery shopping.” He sighs and straightens up to reach for his keys hanging on the rack.

“I’m coming with you.”

“Hah?” Gakushuu whirls around but Akabane is already up and putting on his shoes. He furrows his eyebrows and asks, “Why are you – Oi!”

Hand tightly grasping Gakushuu’s arm, Akabane drags him out the door with a grin. “I need to get some things.”

“Hah?” Gakushuu repeats and looks disbelievingly back at Akabane. “And you have to tag along with me because?”

“Don’t be selfish, Ace-kun,” Akabane hums as he tugs on Gakushuu’s sleeve even more impatiently. “Come on. We’re going to be late.”

“Selfish? Late? What are you even – Stop pulling me, damn it!”

* * *

 

Gakushuu blinks at the giant jack-o-lantern grinning hideously back at him with a crooked smile on the sidewalk. There are loud electronic shrieks and cackles floating out to the sidewalk. He stares blankly at the entrance of the large store before his expression flattens. “No.”

Akabane is not even fazed by his abject denial and surveys the store with a grin. Akabane declares cheerfully, “It’s a Halloween store!”

Gakushuu notes the anticipatory gleam in Akabane’s eyes warily. That’s never a good sign. Ever.  

He steps away and scans the streets for the nearest supermarket instead. Gakushuu comments dryly, “That’s nice. I’m going to an actual supermarket to get groceries. You do whatever demented shopping you wan – Hey!”

Gakushuu scowls as he feels himself yanked back. “Ace-kun, we’re taking a detour!”

Gakushuu brusquely removes himself from Akabane’s grip with a glare. He scowls and says irritated, “What do you mean ‘we’? Don’t you mean yo – Oi, stop pulling me!”

Akabane hums as he drags Gakushuu. Again. Gakushuu bites back a scowl and glares at the back of Akabane’s head. Akabane gestures around to the store and says excitedly, “Isn’t this great?”

Gakushuu balks at the scene. There are fake cobwebs and caution tape messily hung everywhere. All of the counters with glass cases are crowded with people pressed against the glass, yelling for an employee to come and help them already.

The aisles themselves are congested with people grabbing items from the shelves and tugging costumes off the racks.

It’s absolute chaos.

All of the employees are being harassed and everyone is stalking through the store with a glint in their eyes like Halloween shopping has suddenly become a brutal survival game.

And maybe it is as Gakushuu watches with raised eyebrows the two mothers playing tug of war with what looks like a princess costume in the aisle next to him.

“I feel like I literally stepped in hell,” Gakushuu deadpans and turns to look unhappily back at Akabane.

Akabane does not hear him and stares avidly at a string of dancing skeletons. “Ooh, aren’t these cute?”

“Not in the slightest,” Gakushuu remarks dryly. He eyes the long line of customers snaking around the store in a rather complicated configuration. They’ll be here until sundown just to pay for their items.

Gakushuu grimaces and continues, “What do you even need to buy here?”

Akabane turns to look at him, lips hiking up in a smirk that has Gakushuu shaking his head and sighing, “Do I even need to ask?” He turns to leave and mutters, “I’m going to leave. And actually do grocery shopping.”

Except his arm gets yanked back. Again. Gakushuu scowls and glowers at Akabane. Akabane tugs again and drawls, “What are you talking about, Ace-kun? Halloween, it’s Halloween!”

“That means nothing to me,” Gakushuu retorts as he tries to shake off Akabane’s hold. “Let go of me.”

“Don’t be a scrooge,” Akabane hums as he drags them both further into the store. “I’ll celebrate for the both of us then.”

Gakushuu discreetly leans back as a crying four year old suddenly races by them. He glances back at the running kid and wonders what parent thought it would be a good idea to bring a kid to a place with singing ghosts. Honestly.

He looks back at Akabane who’s still determinedly pulling him deeper into this hellhole. “You’re not seriously going into that madness?”

Akabane tilts his head back and says confidently with a grin, “I have a game plan.”

Gakushuu suddenly finds himself shoved forwards. He blinks. Wait a minute…isn’t this the end of the line? He turns to glare at Akabane who waves his hand and says brightly, “Defend your spot well, Ace-kun!”

“You planned this from the beginning, didn’t you?” Gakushuu growls before he pivots sharply on his heel and says irately, “I’m leaving.”

Akabane immediately blocks him and places his hands on Gakushuu’s chest to stop him from moving forward. “Come on, Ace-kun. All you have to do is stand here and move along in…” Akabane pauses and cranes his neck forward to peer at the line. “35 minute intervals. You can take short power naps.”

Like hell, he’s going to wait hours in a line for Akabane.

Gakushuu stares flatly back and growls, “I’m leaving. I don’t have time for this. And, I’d actually like to get some work done today.”

He shoves off Akabane’s hands and takes about three steps forward when Akabane suddenly drawls, “Busy even on a Saturday. Well, that’s understandable…Considering you have that upcoming meeting with the city commissioner of urban planning, right?”

Gakushuu immediately stills and looks back at Akabane who stares back with deceptively innocent eyes. Akabane hums and feigns sympathy, “It must be tough being a CEO.”

“How do you know that?” Gakushuu asks with narrowed eyes.

“Need to renegotiate for the green campaign? Saving the planet? Hiring tree huggers to up your image?” Akabane drawls with a lifted eyebrow. “I heard we allocated money to the redevelopment project for downtown on the condition that the companies who received the contract had to have eco-friendly designs.”

Akabane pauses, eyes glinting in challenge, as he continues slyly, “Ne, do you think you’re the best eco-friendly conglomerate out there?”

Gakushuu raises an eyebrow – Akabane has definitely kept an eye on this - and says coolly, “What are you implying? Isn’t it as important to have high economic activity in that area again? I can ensure that.”

Akabane shrugs. “That’s a nice pitch. But, Ace-kun,” Akabane smirks and says condescendingly, “Don’t you know that holidays always put people in a better mood?”

Gakushuu’s stare flattens. He doesn’t know he’s more annoyed at: the fact that Akabane had this card all along or that he’s willing to use it to make Gakushuu wait in line at a _Halloween_ store.

He tries not to frown and instead counters, “Aren’t you dealing with the banks? This is not even your particular department.”

“It’s still part of the same organization, Ace-kun,” Akabane replies nonchalantly before adding with a smirk, “And I’m well-informed.”

And manipulative goes the unsaid statement.

Gakushuu deliberates for a moment, but considering how his development team this week has been the sore thorn in his side, the meeting with the commission really is the deciding factor in whether or not they get the contract.

And judging from Akabane’s smug grin, he knows it too. Gakushuu grits his teeth and represses the flaring edges of his irritation.

He stalks back to the line and threatens, “If anything goes wrong with that meeting, I am going to make you compensate me for every second I spend waiting here.”

“Of course,” Akabane says cheerfully with an infuriating smile that has Gakushuu already regretting his decision. “I’ll be back~”

Akabne pauses and surveys the rampaging shoppers for a second. Gakushuu catches the sudden predatory glint in Akabane’s eyes, the dangerous smirk before Akabane grabs a shopping cart and barrels into the nearest aisle.

Gakushuu blinks and immediately turns away for the off chance that he can still pretend that he doesn’t know Akabane.

Game plan, Akabane says. And off he goes playing bumper cars with the other shoppers.

Great. Gakushuu spares a moment to pity the poor souls in Akabane’s way before he glances down the line that still hasn’t moved even a millimeter…and nope, he takes that back.

He’s clearly suffering the most here.                                                                                                 

* * *

 

Gakushuu frowns and stares at his watch. A half hour already?

How can 30 minutes have passed by and he still has not moved more than 5 steps forward?

Gakushuu scans around him and mentally calculates how many steps it would take to circle around the store 5 times. Then take in account the average number of steps he can take every ten minutes and….

That’s too damn long.

Gakushuu frowns. When did Halloween get so popular?

He glances at a group of high school kids walking past him and hears them avidly planning their costumes for the Halloween party coming up.

Gakushuu blinks before he pulls out his cell phone. He might as well do something productive here, and besides, it looks like he’s missing out on a blatant opportunity to increase sale revenue.

“Yumiko? You know the two malls we opened and our hotels? What are we doing in regards to holding special events for Halloween?”

* * *

 

Gakushuu glares at his watch. An hour and a half already, and there’s still at least 50 people in front of him.

At least.

He looks darkly down one of the aisles. If Akabane skipped out somewhere to have him wait in this infernal line for nothing, he’s going to strangle the crazy bastard.

Gakushuu sighs and surveys the store for something to distract him.

He’s staring at the display of tombstones and picturing burying a certain someone underneath them when two girls suddenly sidle up to him.

They look young, most likely still in high school. One of the girls, tall with short bobbed hair, smiles and asks, “How long have you been waiting here?”

Gakushuu keeps his face carefully devoid of his murderous intent from before and fixes on a polite smile. “About an hour and a half.”

The girl widens her eyes and glances down the line. “Really?”

Gakushuu nods and is about to move on when the girl’s friend, a petite girl with long brown hair in two braids, clears her throat, “Um, mister, we only have one outfit. Is it ok if we go forward?”

They both nod and stare back with wide, pleading eyes and matching pouts.

Gakushuu blinks and tries not frown in exasperation. Although, honestly. Is that supposed to make him somehow magically give up his spot that he’s been blackmailed in keeping for the past hour and half? Just with a bat of eyelashes and a call to his nonexistent sympathy?

And if they’re going to sweet talk their way up the line, why didn’t they start with at least the _tenth_ person in line?

Gakushuu fixes on his usual benevolent smile and the two girls’ eyes light up only to frown when he says smoothly, “I’m afraid I can’t”

“But-”

“It would be rude to the people behind me.”

And as predicted, the people behind him grumble in agreement, some even loudly complaining that they’ve been waiting for three hours at least and how could you two just dismiss the sixty people still waiting behind you, huh?

The girls meekly apologize and scuttle to the back of the line, disappearing far beyond Gakushuu’s line of sight.

…Ok, so maybe he’s getting a tad sadistic while waiting in line.

* * *

 

When it’s nearing the three hour mark, Gakushuu folds his arms and holds back a growl. He can feel the mutual dissatisfaction simmer in the air and roil down the line as people shift and grumble crossly.

If this line does not move any faster soon, there will be a riot soon.

Gakushuu closes his eyes and wonders what the hell Akabane is doing right now. Is he deliberately camping out somewhere until he sees Gakushuu reach the cash register?

….Actually, he can see that happening.

“What the absolute fuck?”

Gakushuu cracks open an eye and wonders if he said that aloud until he can hear the words repeated again. Oh. Not him then.

He closes his eyes and tries to tune out the complaining behind him.

“What the hell is taking so long again?”

“Exactly how many employees does this shitty store have? Two?”

“Hurry up already!”

“Man, I need to go back soon. My shift is coming up soon.”

“Same here.”

“Oh?” “Hey, the guy over there. Oi! You’re not holding anything!”

“Yeah, you’re right. He’s empty-handed. Hey! Are you ignoring us?”

Gakushuu immediately stiffens when a hand clasps his shoulder from behind. He opens his eyes and glances back with a raised eyebrow, “Are you talking to me?”

“Yeah! We’re talking to you! Who else?”

Oh, gee, he doesn’t know. Perhaps the other multiple individuals also in line?

Gakushuu keeps his tongue in check though and says coolly while smoothly dislodging himself away, “Is there a problem?”

The guy, somewhere in his early twenties with shaggy black hair and an oversized gray sweatshirt, scowls and demands, “Yeah, the fact that you’re not holding anything. What the hell are you staying in this line if you’re not going to buy anything?”

“Yeah, yeah,” his friend agrees with a matching frown.

Gakushuu looks at them disinterestedly before he leans over to the nearby display and plucks off a glass eyeball. “Now I am.”

The guy’s eyes flash indignantly and he growls, “Tcch, asshole. You know what? I bet the reason this line is so long is because selfish pricks like you are standing to keep a spot in line but aren’t actually buying anything yet!”

“The cash registers are probably open but you people aren’t letting others go forward!”

Gakushuu clenches his jaw and is about to retort sharply when people throughout the line nod in assent.

“Yeah, that’s right!”

“I know you’re saving a spot, but meanwhile, some of us already have items ready to pay for!”

“Can’t you let some of us go before you?”

“Yeah, you’ve been standing there a while already. Whoever you’re waiting for isn’t coming back for another half hour at least.”

Gakushuu closes his eyes in disbelief as aggravation sears through him. He opens his eyes and turns back to face all of them with a twitching eyebrow. With violet eyes glittering dangerously and a poisonously saccharine smile, Gakushuu utters, voice dark and low in cadence, “You think I _want_ to be here?”

* * *

 

Karma cracks his knuckles as he strides purposefully down the aisle. God, that took way too long than he anticipated. Competing with mothers over the last kit of face paint is not an incident he wants to repeat again.

He grimaces. He’s pretty sure he got scratched once or twice by those manicured hands.

Karma pauses and whistles lowly at the line snaking around and even out the store. Is it just him or did the line somehow get longer?

He scans the line. Where is Asano anyways?

Don’t tell him that Asano could not endure the ….He glances at his watch and widens his eyes. 4 hours? He’s been here 4 hours?

Karma rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. Man, Asano is going to kill him.

…That is if he is still here.

Karma frowns and calls out, “Asano~?”  He walks up the line, scanning the faces as he goes by. “Oh, Asano! Are you still here?”

He’s about to try going down the line instead when he hears a familiar voice call out irritably, “Here, you idiot.”

Karma turns towards the voice and cranes his neck, eyes darting from face to face until he stops in his tracks.

He knows it’s been 4 hours. Still, there was a shitload of people of people ahead of Asano and the line barely moves faster than a sleep-deprived snail….and yet, Asano is somehow at the very front of line?

Huh.

Karma jogs towards the beginning of the line and notes out of the corner of his eye that everyone seems to be looking away.

Oh boy. What did Asano do this time?

He finally reaches Asano and looks over him with a raised eyebrow.

Asano is not even standing. He is sitting, legs crossed, on an upturned shopping cart with an utterly disinterested expression, looking for all the world like a king who conquered a territory that he did not even want in the first place.

Karma blinks and glances back at the line. Asano did not get so fed up with waiting that he ended up buying the store, did he?

Asano looks up at him with an aggravated frown and demands, “What took you so long?”

Karma shrugs and looks away. “Halloween spirit, Ace-kun. It’s very scary.”

Asano’s face scrunches up at that, but before he can ask, Karma continues curiously, “What happened to all the people in front of you?”

Asano’s expression is carefully devoid of emotion and he says nonchalantly, “They left.”

Karma raises his eyebrows. “To the back of the line?”

“We reached an understanding,” Asano says smoothly, lips twitching ever so slightly in a smirk. Karma can hear the people shuffle nervously in the line behind them and represses a chuckle.

An _understanding_. Right. More like coercion, it seems like. Words are Asano’s daggers, after all.

Asano stands up and looks around him with furrowed eyebrows. “Where is your stuff? Don’t tell me you didn’t buy anything at all, Akabane. Because I swear to god, if you made me wait in this line for nothing, I will -”

“Sir, here is your cart,” the employee that Karma nabbed – er, asked for help – huffs out as he pushes the cart forward with a groan. The man takes out a handkerchief and sloppily dabs his face. “Is there, er, anything else I can help you with?”

Karma smiles and quips, “Nope. That’s all.”

The man says a hurried goodbye and disappears off into the aisle with an audible exhale of relief.

Karma snickers. Ok, so maybe he really isn’t the best customer.

Asano makes a strangled noise behind him. Karma glances back to see Asano balking at the overloaded cart. He asks incredulously, “Are you trying to buy the whole store?”

“Eh? Isn’t that an exaggeration Ace-kun?” Karma drawls as he checks the cart. All he has are several rolls of caution tape, a box of glow sticks, two or three jugs of fake blood, and a fake bloody axe. A few fake daggers. A scythe. Alright, the whole weapon arsenal because well, why not?

Ooh, and that life-size skeleton that cracked him up. Three or four tombstones, you know for effect. Five containers of glow in the dark slime – Who knows when else can he stock up on those? – The motion sensored ghosts.

Two jumbo sized bags of cobwebs and….Huh.

Karma grins and says good-naturedly, “Well, why limit myself to Halloween? There are 365 days in a year, Ace-kun.”

Asano’s face scrunches up again before he can argue, a disgruntled groan runs through the line behind them and people are yelling:

“Oh, come on. Are you serious?”

“Do you seriously expect us to wait for him to finish purchasing all of that?

“Yeah, what the fuck?”

“Have some moderation.”

Karma raises an eyebrow and turns back with a lazy smirk. But before he can even say anything, Asano comes next to him, violet eyes burning even as he smiles and asks pleasantly, “Is there a problem?”

At once, everyone’s mouths snap shut, eyes darting nervously away from the both of them. Asano raises an eyebrow and turns back to Karma. As if he hasn’t just silenced the crowd with the sheer force of his aura, Asano asks unconcernedly, “Did you hear anything?”

Karma bites his lips, but he can feel the telltale tug of his lips. Man, it’s times like this where he really has to hand it to Asano. Admittedly impressed and thoroughly amused, Karma represses a snicker and answers innocently, “Ah, hear what?”

“Mm,” Asano murmurs before he reaches over and lifts up a bat decoration from the stand. “Don’t you think you need this?”

Asano lifts an eyebrow and their eyes meet. There’s a knowing gleam in Asano’s eyes that tells Karma that he knows perfectly well what he’s doing right now.

Unable to hold it in anymore, Karma chuckles and opens his hand for Asano to drop the bat in. He teases, voice brimming with mirth, “How thoughtful of you.”

Asano shrugs, but Karma catches the twitch of his lips before Asano turns away and addresses the cashier up front. “Could you start processing his purchase?”

The cashier, a girl with a black cat ear headband and two long blue braids, widens her eyes and nods meekly. “O-of course.”

* * *

 

Gakushuu frowns as he shifts the bag of celery under one arm and shuffles the bag of apples and the eggplant under the other.

Where the hell is the shopping cart?

He glances around once again but the goddamn cart seems to have disappeared in thin air.

Fantastic. Akabane must have whisked it to god knows where. Gakushuu mutters darkly under his breath as he pivots and heads towards the other aisles in the supermarket.

At this point, they’ll be home long after the sun sets. Although, he supposes it’s a miracle that they even reached the supermarket at all, what with Akabane’s detour into that Halloween store.

Gakushuu is just about to grab a shopping cart of his own when he catches the neon green sign. Huh. Discount on chicken?

He backtracks and glances over the poultry section. Chicken wings, chicken thighs, whole chickens…

What should he buy? The chicken wings? But if he buys the whole chicken, he can make chicken dishes and use the bones to make soup later. That’s more efficient, isn’t it?

Gakushuu pauses. That reminds him. They ran out of eg-

“Asano!”

Gakushuu blinks and turns to see Akabane speeding towards him with the shopping cart.

He widens his eyes and quickly steps to the time just in time for Akabane to skid to a stop, wheels screeching against the floor.

Gakushuu blinks, eyes flicking to Akabane’s breathless face and then to the whispering pair of women three feet away from them.

His eyebrow twitches. Here is he buying groceries like any normal customer, and Akabane is busy playing racecar with the shopping cart.

Why? Why does he have to deal with this?

Gakushuu scowls and hisses, “Are you trying to get us kicked out of the store?”

Akabane tilts his head and says innocently, “What? What did I do?”

Gakushuu looks at him darkly before growling, “You’re an insufferable child.” He turns to put down the groceries in his arms only to still as he peers down at the cart.

One, two, three, four, five. Five round, bright orange pumpkins sit nonchalantly in the cart. And as Gakushuu’s eyes rove over the front of the cart, there is also at least ten bags of assorted candy.

Oh, for Pete’s sake.

Gakushuu drops the groceries carelessly down and pinches the bridge of his nose. He says resignedly, “Halloween is one day _. One_ day.”

Akabane nods and asks with a deceptively inquiring expression, “Yes. And what’s your point, Ace-kun?”

Gakushuu stares at him disbelievingly before he lets out a long exhale and walks away. “I hate shopping with you.”

* * *

 

Time: 2 days after

Gakushuu sighs as he jabs the key into the lock. There is a metal click before he turns the doorknob.

Only to walk into a curtain of cobwebs tickling his face. Gakushuu sneezes and blindly reaches out to shove the spider webs away.

He frowns. What the hell? Don’t tell him that the apartment is infested with spiders now –

Gakushuu stills and stares at the living room in horror.

Cobwebs falling down from the ceiling and caution tape wrapped over all of the furniture. Giant furry spiders ringed with neon orange and green dangling from overhead. On the coffee table, there’s a jack-o-lantern grinning back with him with jagged teeth and manic eyes and a black wiry candlestick with candles a noxious shade of bright green.

Gakushuu blinks but the scene does not change. It’s not a hallucination.

Unfortunately.

Gakushuu steps forward and immediately frowns when the witch figurine standing to his right cackles in delight. He glances at it, eyes roving over the beady eyes and plastic bumpy skin.

Great.

He groans and makes his way warily into the living room where an assortment of flying bats swoop down over his head and three or four plastic axes with fake blood dripping inside their cases slices towards him.

Hell. He’s walked straight into hell with Akabane as the devil.

And the said devil is…baking cookies?

Gakushuu pauses and looks on as Akabane, dressed in a black apron with a white skeleton frame printed on it, carefully frosts a tray of cookies in front of him.

Gakushuu blinks. He’s not sure what he’s more surprised at: the fact that Akabane knows how to bake too or that the kitchen actually smells pleasant, the warm aroma of freshly baked cookies with the pungent scent of cinnamon and spice.

It’s almost enough to make him forget the nightmarish interior design.

Almost.

Gakushuu clears his throat and leans against the doorway. “People already think that our apartment is haunted and you go and make sure that it is?”

“Hmm?” Akabane murmurs idly as he carefully smooths out the frosting on the cookie. It takes a few seconds until Akabane finishes and looks up at him. “What did you say?”

“Our apartment looks like the gateway to the underworld.”

Akabane’s eyes immediately light up and he leans forward with an expectant grin. “Ah, did you like it? So far, it’s just a prototype.”

Gakushuu furrows his eyebrows and he says incredulously, “A prototype?”

Their apartment is going to look even _more_ demented?

Gakushuu starts slowly, “You do realize that no one’s going to venture into our apartment, yes? Not even the trick or treaters, if god forbid, you’re doing that too.” He pauses and looks askance at Akabane. “Or are you charging admission to this impromptu haunted house?”

“Eh? But it builds atmosphere,” Akabane says dismissively before he stops and contemplates Gakushuu’s last comment. “Charge admission…Huh. Good suggestion, Ace-kun.”

Gakushuu narrows his eyes. “That was _not_ a suggestion.”

Akabane shrugs with an amused grin and goes back to frosting the cookies.

Gakushuu eyes him warily and warns, “I mean it.” He sighs and goes to sit down at the kitchen table only to pause at the sight. There is a white tablecloth stretched over it for the first time, but the sheet is splattered with fake blood.

It rather defeats the purpose of having a tablecloth.

Gakushuu sighs and sits down, resigning himself to the fact that for the next few days, the apartment is going to look like a horror set from every supernatural movie.

Oh, fun days are ahead.

He leans back against the chair and mutters, “If I hear cackling ghouls in the middle of the night, I’m going to kill you.”

“That would be murder,” Akabane murmurs from over by the kitchen counter, still preoccupied with finishing the cookies.

“A haunted apartment and a dead body. How fitting,” Gakushuu dryly notes and waves vaguely around him. “Why don’t you just write a horror story instead of subjecting me to this trauma?”

“Why read when you can have the real-world experience, Ace-kun?” Akabane answers easily back with a smirk. “Don’t tell me you’re already bothered by these decorations.”

“As if,” Gakushuu says derisively and raises an eyebrow. “It’s just, oh, I don’t know? Irritating to have inanimate objects flung at me _every time_ I take a step.”

“Really? I find that it keeps me on my toes.”

Gakushuu blinks before he says flatly, “You’re completely insane.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Akabane hums as he suddenly approaches the table with a plate of cookies and two mugs. He places them in front of Gakushuu and plops down in the seat next to him with a lazy smile. “Here you go. Specialty of the house.”

Gakushuu looks blankly down. The cookies are cut out into various shapes: bats, pumpkins, ghosts, and – Is that Frankenstein’s face? – all with their respective frosting colors of bright green, orange, black and purple.

He leans back in his seat and lifts an eyebrow, smile in place even as he considers chucking the plate at Akabane. There’s absolutely no way he’s eating one.

“How many poisons are in there?” Gakushuu taps the plate and says pleasantly, “You’re not even going for subtle here.”

Akabane makes a noise and feigns hurt, “Your accusation kills me.”

“And your cooking will kill me,” Gakushuu says disinterestedly.

Akabane ignores his comment and says casually, “I made these for work tomorrow too, you know.”

“How generous of you,” Gakushuu replies dryly and pushes the plate away. “But I don’t feel like dying today, so save these for your victims tomorrow.”

Akabane hums and rests his cheek in the palm of his hand. “What about the hot chocolate? You’re not going to drink that either?”

When Gakushuu gives another pointed look, Akabane lets out a long-suffering sigh and complains, “You’re so paranoid.” He reaches for the first mug and takes a deliberate large sip before doing the same to the second. Akabane raises an eyebrow and smiles smugly, “Satisfied?”

Not even remotely, but the taunting lilt in Akabane’s tone irks him. As it always does and judging by Akabane’s growing smirk, he knows it too.

Gakushuu frowns and grimly takes the offered mug. He carefully sips it. Surprisingly, it tastes fine. Delicious even. The taste of chocolate is rich on his tongue, not too bitter and not too sweet with a hint of cinnamon and smooth with the added cream. He takes another sip and unconsciously relaxes.

Akabane watches him with a grin, eyes bright with amusement. “It’s good, isn’t it?”

“Mm,” Gakushuu makes a noncommittal sound and continues sipping the mug. It’s a bit disturbing how good it is actually.

As if Akabane read his mind, he lets out a chuckle and points towards the plate, “Try the cookies, Ace-kun.”

At that, Gakushuu stares warily at the cookies. Just because the hot chocolate hasn’t killed him doesn’t mean that the cookies won’t finish the job.

He takes another sip and says coolly, “No, thank you.”

Akabane rolls his eyes and comments impatiently, “Really? Ace-kun? You were fine with the hot chocolate.”

“For all I know this was to lull me into a false sense of security.”

“Not everything is a conspiracy, Ace-kun,” Akabane drawls before he presses again, eyes wide and innocent, “Come on. I need someone to taste test.”

Unimpressed - he knows how deceptive that expression is – Gakushuu says sarcastically, “Oh? And I’m the lucky guinea pig?”

“Yes, lucky you,” Akabane quips cheerfully.

Gakushuu takes another sip – it’s a little distracting how good that tastes – and settles for a glare instead of his usual sharp retort.

Akabane sighs dramatically and gestures to the kitchen table. “I spent a lot of time baking, you know. Have a little sympathy for me, won’t you?”

Gakushuu shifts his legs away from under the table and mutters, “Stop kicking me.” His eyes rove across the counter: smudges of flour, stacked dirty mixing bowls, the metal cookie cutters scattered on the cookie tray. He narrows his eyes ever so slightly at the plate of sugar cookies tucked to the side of the counter which unlike the other, has sprinkles instead of frosting.

Gakushuu glances back at the frosted cookies before he shrugs and says nonchalantly, “Fine.”

However, he gets up, much to Akabane’s surprise, and heads instead towards the kitchen counter. “Eh? Ace-kun, where are you going?”

Gakushuu ignores him and reaches out for one of the sprinkle cookies. He remembers the jar of sprinkles that Akabane bought in the supermarket, so out of these two plates, these cookies are less likely to send him collapsing to the floor.

Still, he carefully takes a minuscule bite because you really can’t be too careful.

It takes fine and he takes another bite. Huh. So Akabane apparently does know how to bake.

Karma watches Asano in interest as he finishes the cookie. He’s a little disappointed that Asano did not take the bait, but then again, it’s no fun having a rival that falls for every trick. Besides, Asano automatically chose the safer option is amusing in its own way.

He hums and asks nonchalantly, “You don’t like frosting?”

“I don’t like having my taste buds burnt off,” Asano counters before he reaches down for the mug and adds, “Knowing you, you probably put wasabi into the frosting.”

Karma blinks. “Eh?” He scratches the back of his neck and tries not to pout, “Of course not.”

Asano and his shrewdness.

Asano glances at him and pauses. He says incredulously, “Wait, seriously? Aren’t you going to pass these at work?”

Karma shrugs and says carelessly, “Not all of these have the wasabi frosting.” He grins and adds, “It’s trick _o_ r treat, remember?”

Asano shakes his head and mutters, “You really are the devil.”

“How did you know?” Karma asks curiously.

“That you’re the devil or that you sabotaged the cookies?” Asano says wryly. “Let me see. Intuition? Self-preservation? Common sense? All three?”

“Whatever you say,” Karma says dismissively before he changes the subject. “Hey, have you noticed that the pranks from before stopped?”

Asano glances at him and answers matter-of-factly, “Yes, because it’s harder to break in. Furthermore, the culprit would be caught on camera if he did.” He pauses and eyes the cobwebs Karma strung up over the walls. “That is if they still work.”

“They’re fine,” Karma says dismissively and leans back in the chair.

Asano furrows his eyebrows and asks curiously, “Why are you asking?”

Karma grins and drawls, “Nothing.”

Asano surveys him carefully and notes, voice stark with suspicion, “Whatever it is you’re planning, stop it.”

When Karma only answers with another grin, Asano says firmly, “I mean it.” He takes another sip and continues bluntly, “This apartment can only be insured so far. There’s no coverage for demented acts committed by manic roommate.”

Karma snickers and rolls his eyes. “So mean, Ace-kun. You – Oi Ace-kun, stop eating my cookies.”

Isn’t that the third cookie Asano swiped already?

“A minute ago, you were asking me to try them,” Asano notes as he deliberately takes the entire plate. “And besides they may be your cookies, but I paid for the ingredients since a _certain_ someone decided to conveniently disappear at the cash register.”

“You’re so stingy,” Karma comments as he steps forward to take the plate away only for Asano to dodge his hands. He raises an eyebrow and reaches out again. “Ne, are you sure your company is raking in enough revenue for a CEO to whine about paying for some flour?”

Asano circles around the counter, away from Karma’s reach. Karma narrows his eyes and lunges forward only for Asano to immediately step aside, nearly flinging the entire plate to the side.

As if they’re not suddenly playing tag in the middle of the kitchen, Asano feigns thoughtfulness and asks, “What are we having for dinner?”

Karma furrows his eyebrows and reaches out again. Man, he never should have offered Asano the cookies. Who knew Asano actually likes eating cookies in the first place?

He crosses his arms and says impatiently, “What is this ‘we’ that you’re talking about, Ace-kun? You have hands and legs. Go cook for yourself.”

“The kitchen seems occupied,” Asano comments blithely as he somehow manages to make his way to the doorway, holding the plate above his head. “What, don’t tell me that this is your dinner.”

Karma contemplates tackling him, but that would knock the cookies to the ground and he thinks he has enough of baking for one day. “Asano! I’m not baking another batch!”

Asano ignores him and comments, “I’m absolutely famished.”

Karma looks at him incredulously because seriously, why is that suddenly his problem? He demands, “Weren’t you just accusing me of poisoning the food? Ne, where did this sudden surge of trust come from?”

Asano shrugs and says with a smirk, “Weren’t you saying to be more forgiving in light of the holiday spirit?”

Karma stares unhappily at him before he scans the counter for anything to use. His eyes land on the opened jar of sprinkles and immediately, he smirks.

Asano pauses, already following his gaze, and warns, “Don’t even think about it.”

Karma tilts his head and smiles innocently, “Think about what?”

Before Asano can say anything, Karma already has the jar in his hands and swings it.

The colorful sprinkles rains down all over the floor and most importantly, all over Asano’s hair.

Asano blinks, speechless for a moment before his eyes narrow and he seethes, “You’re dead.”

Karma grins. Ah, sweet revenge. He licks the sprinkles off his fingers and snickers. Literally too.

* * *

 

3 days later:

Much like the Pillow Fight Incident, Gakushuu isn’t really proud of the Food Fight Incident either. They ended up wrecking yet another room, the kitchen. Cleaning up was an absolute pain.

He swears that even now, he can still find sprinkles in his hair.

Gakushuu regrets letting Akabane buy the jumbo sized jar of five different types of sprinkles. Who the hell needs that much sprinkles never alone five different _types_ of sprinkles?

But that is Tuesday’s problem. Right now, he has to deal with today is Friday and Friday’s problem involves the mix-up in funds between the different development projects he has going on right now.

He hates this week.

Gakushuu frowns as he scans his laptop and continues typing. It’s irritating enough that accounting made this much of a blunder but to inform him of the mistake after he has gone home is and when an inspection meeting with one of the committees is coming up, is just – why does he even have departments in the first place? 

Gakushuu grits his teeth and then blinks as the lights in the living room suddenly flicker before turning off entirely.

Great. First the AC, then the washing machine, and now the electricity.

Never mind the fact that he _just_ had the lamps and light fixtures replaced.

Wonderful. Is there anything that _has not_ broken down yet?

“The light turned off.”

Gakushuu scowls and looks up from the laptop. “I can see that. I’m not blin-”

He blinks. Are those the jack-o-lanterns?

Akabane saunters into the living room with the jack-o-lanterns that he placed all around the apartment.

Which Gakushuu is still peeved about because while the coffee table and the dining table are fine, a jack-o-lantern in the shower stall is not.

Especially when it’s in the bathroom connected to his room, ergo _his_ bathroom, and Gakushuu does not ever remember asking to walk into the bathroom at three in the morning and be greeted with a maniacal looking pumpkin grinning back at him.

Akabane comes to a stop and carefully adds the two pumpkins under his arms to the one already on the coffee table.

Gakushuu watches curiously as Akabane slips out several glow sticks from his pocket and snaps them methodically before placing three in each pumpkin.

Gakushuu blinks and looks down. The pumpkins grin back at him, set aglow in their separate colors: neon green, bright blue, and hot pink.

“Tada!” Akabane sings out as he finishes.

Gakushuu blinks again. The pumpkins now look more sinister than ever. The various decorations, like the spiders and the ghosts dangling from the ceiling are outlined rather eerily under this lighting, casting even stranger shadows against the wall.

He says slowly, “This….only reminds me how hellish our apartment is, thanks to your decorating.”

Also, it reminds him of his growing dislike for jack-o-lanterns.

Akabane steps back to survey them and tilts his head. “What are you talking about? Look how useful these are. Aren’t you glad I bought them?” He snaps two more glow sticks and offers them with a grin. “Here you go Ace-kun.”

“I’d be happier if you bought flashlights instead,” Gakushuu remarks but reaches out for the glow sticks anyway.

Akabane hums as he walks away to the door with his own handful of glow sticks. “I’m going to head down and see what happened.” He glances back and drawls, “Who knows? Maybe I’ll see the rumored ghost.”

Gakushuu raises an eyebrow and the door slams shut. He doubts the mysterious culprit will still be loitering around the building.

Otherwise they would have caught the person by now.

He glances at the pumpkins again and shakes his head. Focusing back on the laptop screen, Gakushuu determinedly starts typing again.

First the documents. And then he’ll hunt down the idiot suicidal enough to “haunt” this apartment.

Gakushuu surveys the living room once more and scoffs. As if this apartment needs to be haunted. Akabane is already a devil to begin with.

* * *

 

Hmm, so someone cut the wires and the whole building has a black out. Interesting.

Karma hums idly under his breath as he walks up the stairs back to the apartment.

It’s no good to be played like this. Karma tucks his hands in his pockets and smirks. Maybe it’s time he lays out a little trap of his own.

All he needs is the perfect bait and opportunity.

* * *

 

Time: Saturday

Yumiko knocks again and readjusts the stack of documents in her arms. The door finally opens with a click, but the person who steps out is not the president.

She blinks, caught off guard. The man looks young. Hmm, around the same age as the president? He has on a black sweatshirt with a white smirking stitched face across it with low grey sweats. His hair is a striking bright red and his wide eyes are an even more unusual shade of bright gold, but they complement his features nicely.

Handsome, Yumiko decides as she surveys him shrewdly. But he’s not the president and she really needs to hand these documents to him.

Yumiko clears her throat and asks smoothly, “Hello. I’m looking for Asano-san. May I ask who you are?”

With lips curving in a half-smile, the man says cheerfully, a pleasant lilt in his tone, “His roommate.” He chuckles and adds, “Although Asano would probably say otherwise.”

Yumiko’s eyes widen in recognition and she says curiously, “Ah, you must be Akabane-san, then.”

Her eyes rove over him again. Huh. He looks completely different from what she expected as the person sharing an apartment with Asano.

If she remembers correctly, Akabane is a classmate of sorts, right? Having gone to the same middle school and high school?

Akabane raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Oh? Asano mentioned me?” He grins, eyes flickering with amusement, as he deliberately stage whispers, “Or rather, how much does he complain about me?”

Yumiko’s lips quirk upwards. She can practically see the mischief and unpredictability crackling off Akabane. She wonders how Akabane and the president ended up as roommates. They seem like polar opposites.

Interesting.

She leans in and whispers conspiratorially, “Mmm. Quite often when he’s doing paperwork. He doesn’t realize he does it.”

He looks briefly surprised, clearly not expecting her to play along, but Akabane recovers fast and snickers, “Really?”

She smiles and introduces herself, “I’m his secretary. Sasaki Yumiko.”

Akabane hums and steps aside to let her through. “Well, Sasaki-san, Asano is not here right now, but you can wait inside if you want.”

Yumiko carefully walks in, sliding off her heels at the mat. She pads into the living room and blinks at the scene. There’s a glowing green jack-o-lantern sticking out its tongue at her from the coffee table, spiders dangling from the ceiling, cobwebs shrouding the walls, and a blood splattered carpet under the coffee table.

She blinks again before mentally shrugging. It’s a bit…much. But who is she to question Akabane’s – Akabane because she can’t imagine their usually composed president hanging up a string of bats – tastes?   

Instead, she walks over to the sofa, carefully sits down, and comments, “I think the pumpkins are adorable.”

Akabane chuckles and claps his hands, “As expected of Asano’s secretary.” There’s an approving gleam in Akabane’s eyes that makes Yumiko feel like she just passed some incomprehensible test.

He strides towards what looks like the kitchen and calls out, “Do you want water? Coffee? Tea? We have hot chocolate.”

“Water is fine,” Yumiko answers politely as she places the files neatly on the coffee table. She glances around the living room again and smiles wryly to herself. Is this why the president has been more aggravated this week?

Well, besides the fact that the progress reports from the departments have been less than satisfactory this week.

Still, for the president to tolerate what Akabane did to the apartment, they must be close, right?

When Akabane comes back with a glass of water, Yumiko comments, “You must love Halloween.”

Akabane shrugs and plops down into the armchair nearby. “It’s a fun holiday.” He tilts his head and remarks, “Asano must be working his employees to the bone for you to have to come over on a Saturday.”

Well, it’s true that Asano has been more…demanding as of late. Like the time when the president called her over the weekend, apparently inspired to take advantage of the Halloween spirit to push sales.

Oh and was that a headache. She had to call the advertising and sales team to quickly come with a strategy. As amusing as it is to see grown men have a full blown attack in the conference room, planning and coordinating Halloween events for the hotels was not.  

She had to cancel a dinner reservation.

Again.

Yumiko inwardly shakes her head and keeps her voice carefully devoid of any dismay. “Ah, Asano-san needed some documents from the office and it was convenient this way too. There is a party the company is throwing on Halloween, but the president hasn’t RSVPed at all.”

Akabane says rather shrewdly, “Promotion?”

“How perceptive of you,” Yumiko notes and shrugs gracefully. “It’s better if our president shows up, but Asano-san seems reluctant to attend.”

Not that she’s taking a no for an answer. It was the president’s idea in the first place to do more events for Halloween, and damn it, her missed dinner reservation is going to count for something.

As if Akabane can read her mind, he smirks and says knowingly, “You should get a raise just for trying to change Asano’s mind.”

She’d rather he would make it possible for her to not miss any more dinner reservations in the future.

Somehow Yumiko doesn’t see that happening.

She parts her lips to answer but pauses as she catches, out of the corner of her eye, the open first aid box on the floor. Yumiko furrows her eyebrows, eyes flicking over the messily strewn gauze, and asks, “Is someone injured? That’s quite a lot of gauze.”

Akabane reaches out and deftly tucks the gauze back in the first aid kit. He places it on the coffee table and answers blithely, “Ah, no. Just…a little something for a Halloween prop.”

Yumiko narrows her eyes ever so slightly at the box of opened band-aids. They’re bright yellow…with cute faces printed on top of them.

Recognition runs through her.

Snippets of the conversation she had with the president flit through her mind, and Yumiko looks up to survey Akabane speculatively.

Oh, well now. This is interesting.

She hides her growing smirk and says innocently, “Oh? These band-aids look so cute.”

“Aren’t they?” Akabane drawls in agreement. “Asano kept complaining about them.”

Oh, she knows.

“Really?” Yumiko suppresses an amused laugh and pretends to glance at her watch in surprise. “Oh! I just remembered that I have an appointment to attend to. Asano-san seems like he won’t be home for a little while, so would you do me a favor?”

Akabane blinks as she abruptly stands up and Yumiko takes advantage of it to push into his hands the files and the black envelope.

“Please give him these documents and the reminder about the party. The invitation is in the black envelope.” Yumiko does not give Akabane the chance to reply and continues with a smile, “We really need our president to show up, so if you could please persuade him.”

She adjusts the handbag on her shoulder and deliberately adds as an afterthought, “Oh, and if you have no plans that day, you are more than welcome to attend, Akabane-san.”

“Attend?” Akabane echoes, slightly mystified by the stack of papers in his hands.

“Of course.” She tilts his head and says innocently, “Oh, is that a yes?” Yumiko strides towards the door and calls out, “Well then, I’ll mark you down as his plus one.”

“Ah? But - “

“I’m counting on you, Akabane-san. I’ll see both you and the president at the party,” Yumiko smiles engagingly and waves before neatly closing the door behind her.

She smirks to herself and saunters out with a hum. It’s Halloween after all. Who says she can’t have a little fun?

Trick _and_ treat.

* * *

 

Karma gazes towards the closed door amusedly. No wonder she is Asano’s secretary. She seemed to have her mind set the second she walked into the room.

He drops the stack of files back on the coffee table. Glancing at the black envelope, he picks it up and stares at it thoughtfully.

Invitation?

He lifts an eyebrow and shrugs. It’s Asano’s fault for not being here.

Karma opens the envelope, eyes scanning the golden script printed on the matching black card.

There are actually two events. A formal soiree and most likely the one that Yumiko wants Asano to attend from eight to ten, and a dance event from ten to midnight probably aimed towards young people. It’s more of an excuse to bring in new guests to the hotel Asano recently developed.

Still, as Karma taps the card thoughtfully, here is the opportunity that he was waiting for.

Now all he needs is the bait.

Karma grins and pulls out his cell phone.

“Ah, Tobio-san? Could you come over and hand me the invoices from yesterday? Make sure to put then in a big manila folder, ok?  I’ll meet you outside my apartment building.”

“Hah? Invoices? Akabane-san, I’m on my weeken –“

“Thanks!”

“Oi, wait!  Akabane –san -”

Karma hangs up and chuckles. This is perfect timing.

* * *

 

Karma waits patiently, hands tucked in his pockets as he waits for Tobio to come with the documents.

It takes about another twenty minutes or so until he hears footsteps running towards him.  He glances up and sees Tobio running up to, dressed in jeans and a white collared shirt, manila folder flapping in his hand, and face red from exertion.

Karma steps forward with a grin and says brightly, “Thank you so much for bringing these _very_ important documents, Tobio-san.”

He makes sure to emphasize the last words loudly as he reaches out to take the manila folder.

Tobio furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Huh? Import -”

“Ah, it would be a bother if I were to misplace these. It would set back our entire case,” Karma pretends to sigh and shake his head consternation.

Tobio’s eyes widen even further in bewilderment and he protests, “These are in-”

“Oh, and Tobio-san, I have to leave early on Monday. Alright? Remember?” Karma prods and looks expectantly at Tobio even though he never made any such plans.

Tobio blinks and says blankly, “Remember what?”

Karma ignores him and continues cheerfully, “Ok? I have an important er, event to attend with Asano. Ok? We’re leaving at seven and probably won’t be back until late evening. I won’t be available during that period, so try not to call me.”

“Hah? But -”

Karma reaches out to clasp Tobio’s shoulder with an amiable grin even as he says lowly with a demanding edge to his tone, “Nod your head, Tobio-san.”

“I -” At Karma’s expectant gaze, Tobio swallows and says hurriedly, “Yes, I understand. Don’t bother you on Halloween night.” He leans forward and whispers, “Um, is someone listening in on this conversation? Are you trying to make a scen-”

Karma loudly claps his hands and chirps, “Alright, thank you Tobio-san!” Tobio opens his mouth to protest but Karma smiles even wider and pushes him not so gently away. He waves his hand. “Bye-bye.”

Tobio stumbles half a step forward before glancing back at him bewilderment. “Wait, but -”

“Bye!” Karma repeats cheerfully with a sharper grin.

Tobio blinks before he sighs wearily and waves back.

Karma inwardly shakes his head. Tobio could at least pick up on a cue or two.

He walks back into the apartment building and hums to himself.

Judging from the CCTV and the times that the trespasser broke into the apartment, he – or she- has to one, know the building’s layout enough to know where to cut the wires and avoid the cameras and two, know when he and Asano are out of the apartment.

That means that the culprit has to be keeping an eye on them.

He’ll have to drop a few more helpful hints later today and tomorrow just to be safe.

* * *

 

Time: Monday, Halloween

Gakushuu sighs as he relaxes on the sofa. For the first time in weeks, he’s actually home early. Unfortunately, that has more to do with the Halloween party later this evening than being ahead of the deadlines.

Well, he’ll take what he can get.

Gakushuu sips the glass of water as he scrolls down the news column on the tablet.

Loud footsteps amble down the stairs and Gakushuu does not have to look up to know that it’s Akabane.

What he doesn’t expect though is for Akabane to approach the sofa and gaze down at him curiously. “Asano, why are you still sitting on the sofa?”

Gakushuu glances up and pauses. Akabane is dressed in green scrubs smeared in blood complete with a white doctor’s coat also generously splattered with blood. The sleeves are pushed carelessly up to his elbows to expose the bloody bandages wrapped around his arms. There’s a stethoscope slung around his neck, which sports a rather realistic looking gash complete with scab blood and fake stitches.

Akabane’s bangs are messily ruffled to cover his forehead, and there’s a streak of blood on his cheek. Gakushuu thinks what really completes the look though is the gleeful smirk stretching across his face and the uncanny way his eyes burn a stark gold.

…Not that Akabane needs any costume to perfect the look of a psychopath. He embodies insanity on a daily basis.

Gakushuu raises an eyebrow and remarks, “Is it time for you to terrorize the neighborhood?” He glances over Akabane again and adds, “I’m a little surprised you went for the homicidal doctor instead of the deranged patient. I think you could make a straightjacket work.”

Akabane only grins wider and asks amusedly, “You don’t like it?”

He reaches in the outer pocket of the coat and snaps on a pair of rubber gloves before reaching inside one of the inner pockets. Akabane pulls out a bright crimson heart and squeezes it experimentally. There’s a sickening squelch, the blood dripping all over Akabane’s fingers. “I think it looks pretty realistic. See?”

“I’m not sure I want to know what hospital you’ve been visiting,” Gakushuu answers coolly. He glances back at the heart and shakes his head. “You couldn’t get the idea of fake organs out of your mind since the mailbox incident, could you?”

Akabane chuckles. “You know me so well.”

Gakushuu makes a non-committal sound as he looks interestedly down at the heart. Putting aside Akabane’s mischievous whims aside, it does look rather well made. He raises an eyebrow and asks curiously, “Gelatin?”

Akabane grins and slips the heart the back into his coat. “As expected of Ace-kun.” He glances at Gakushuu and tilts his head. “Aren’t you going to change into your costume?”

Gakushuu scoffs and goes back to reading the tablet. “I don’t have one. Not everyone is enthusiastic about Halloween as you are.”

Akabane blinks and says quizzically, “Eh? But the invitation said specifically to come into costumes.” He flings a black envelope at Gakushuu and drawls, “Don’t be the lame party pooper.”

Gakushuu frowns slightly at the throw before he stops and looks back at the envelope again. Isn’t that the invitation to the party his company is holding?

He looks up with furrowed eyebrows and asks warily, “How did you get this?”

Akabane says innocently, “Your lovely secretary gave it to me. Didn’t she say anything about it?” He shrugs and adds, “You already RSVPed by the way.”

RSVP? To the party that he said he wasn’t interested in attending? That one?

Gakushuu gives him a dirty look and says, voice flat with dissatisfaction, “And you waited this long to tell me because?”

Akabane tilts his head and replies in mock surprise, “Oh? Did I forget to tell you?” He shrugs and smirks, eyes dancing in amusement. He drawls, “My bad. Well, Ace-kun still has time to change.”

Gakushuu narrows his eyes and glares at him. He’s going to have to talk about Yumiko about handing unnecessary paperwork to idiots. Why on earth did she feel the need to tell Akabane about the event in the first place?

He scowls and says darkly, “Change into what? _I don’t have a costume_.”

Akabane’s smirk grows wider and he says dismissively, “Don’t worry. I came prepared.”

The sudden gleam in Akabane’s eyes makes Gakushuu wary immediately. He looks back at the tablet and answers firmly, “I’m not going.”

Akabane hums and comments nonchalantly, “Are you ok with disappointing your employees then? And whoever else you invited to promote the hotel?

Gakushuu blinks and looks back into Akabane’s expectant expression. “You – Why did you wait this long to tell me?” He stops and growls, “Actually, why did you decide for me?”

At that, Akabane looks vaguely put out as he murmurs, “Technically, your secretary did. And somehow made me your plus one too.”

“My _what?_ ”

Oh, he’s definitely going to have to re-discuss some things with Yumiko.

Akabane comments a bit distantly, “I have to say, she seems quite capable.” He shrugs, eyes focused again, and claps his hands. “Anyways, go change already.”

Gakushuu looks disbelievingly at him. He repeats in aggravation, “I just said that I don’t have a costume.”

How many times does he have to repeat this? And why the hell does he have to go the party _with_ Akabane?

The whole point of the event is to showcase the hotel’s capabilities to hold and plan events as well as to appeal to prospective guests, not to drive them away.

Akabane sighs and levels him such an exasperated gaze that Gakushuu’s eye twitches. Exactly who here went and RSVPed for him, huh?

Akabane suddenly reaches out and tugs him to his feet. “I knew this would happen. I left a costume on your bed.”

Gakushuu frowns and rebukes, “Haven’t I told you not to go into my room?”

Akabane rolls his eyes and complains, “What? It’s not like you’re hiding a dead body in there. Or does Ace-kun have any habits that he wants to come clean about?”

Gakushuu glowers at him and growls, “You – Oi!”

Akabane shoves him again and says impatiently, “Come on. Chop, chop! We don’t have all night!”

“Why are you suddenly so intent on attending the party? You don’t even like going -”

To Gakushuu’s aggravation, Akabane pushes him towards the stairs again and drawls, “I’m just helping Ace-kun get into the holiday spirit. Aren’t you glad to have me as a roommate?”

“Glad? What the hell gave you that impression?” Gakushuu grits his teeth as he skids his feet on the floor, resisting Akabane’s shove.

“Ace-kun, if you won’t go up to go change, shall I do it for you?” Akabane hums. He shakes his head and comments, “Ah, I knew you had an exhibitionist streak.”

Gakushuu furrows his eyebrows. “An exhibition – What are you doing?” He slaps at Akabane’s hands that have suddenly gripped his shirt. “Stop unbuttoning my shirt, you crazy bastard! You – Alright! I get it. I’ll go up!”

Akabane withdraws his hands with a grin and says sweetly, “How cooperative of you.”

Gakushuu shoots Akabane a glare as he fixes his shirt. He stalks up the stairs and mutters darkly, “Have I mentioned how much I hate you?”

“All the time, Ace-kun!”

He really, really hates Akabane. And this damned holiday.

* * *

 

Asano fixes his cufflinks and stares down himself with another frown.

Karma almost wants to groan in exasperation. He did not even give Asano an embarrassing costume, even though he really, really was tempted to do so. Wasted opportunity is what this is when Karma thinks of the myriad of options he could have had.

But in light of the bigger picture tonight, Karma did put some thought into Asano’s outfit.

How else would have Asano agreed to step out of the apartment much less attend the party?

Asano is dressed in all black: black tailored slacks, black dress shoes, a black collared shirt fully buttoned, and a black buttoned blazer with pinstripes only on one arm and the opposite half with the lapels alternating as well.

The only hint of color is the slim crimson red tie.

Karma also, after much needling and grappling, managed to paint a skull on two thirds of Asano’s face, purposely leaving Asano’s left eye and part of his forehead bare.

Karma scrutinizes him again and nods to himself in satisfaction. See? The face paint that he grappled with the two soccer moms did count for something after all.

Besides, the black face paint emphasizes the violet hue of Asano’s eyes and the painted skull lines only further accentuate Asano’s features. The suit, albeit darker and slightly more eccentric than Asano prefers, is not all that much different from what Asano usually dons anyways.

Asano looks every inch the vicious businessman that he truly is.

Karma blinks. Did he just spend ten minutes commenting on Asano’s appearance?

He frowns. Maybe he put _too_ much effort in this.

Asano steps into the hotel and grumbles, “What am I supposed to be anyways?”

Karma quickly follows after and comments flippantly, “A demon in businessman’s clothing, of course.” He presses the stack of business cards into Asano’s hand and adds, “You run the corporation of hell.”

Asano blinks and looks down at the black business card with bright red font. “Is this a metaphor for businessmen? Or your opinion on me?”

Karma ignores him. He clucks his tongue in disapproval. “Tsk. Ace-kun should have brought the scythe with him. Why did you leave it in the car?”

Asano gives him a look and says sarcastically, “I know. Why did I when there’s a perfectly annoying idiot in front of me to behead?”

Dismissing Asano again, Karma tugs him into the ballroom the hotel set aside for the event. He eyes the décor. It’s rather Gothic themed with dim lighting, bright crimson velvet drapes, and black wiry candlesticks, silk carpets, and bright red roses twisting around an ornate chandelier.

Lavish and sophisticated.

The live band is interesting though.

He smirks when his eyes light upon a man talking avidly to a woman in a long black velvet dress. The man has on a samurai outfit, but Karma recognizes the distinct laugh and mustache.

He tugs Asano’s arm again and nods towards him, “Isn’t that Congressman Ito? Introduce him to me.”

Asano glances at him curiously but shrugs.

However, they are only about ten feet away from him when Ito spots them, or more specifically Karma with wide eyes. He murmurs something to the woman in a hurry and stumbles off to the door on the right.

Asano raises an eyebrow and remarks, “I thought you said you never met. How did you already scare him off?”

Karma shrugs and says slyly, “Running away is a sign of guilt. Wouldn’t you say so?”

Asano looks contemplative for a moment before he looks after the direction Ito ran off again. “Your investigation?” Karma smirks and Asano chuckles in interest. “Interesting. He’s a big name.”

“Big fish still get caught, Asano-kun.”

“Only if the net is big enough,” Asano counters smoothly. He nods to the table to the right. “Are you going to sit or see if any more of your suspects are here?”

Karma hums before asking casually, “Ne, do you want to bet how many people I can scare tonight?”

Asano frowns and gives him a warning look. “No. I mean it, Akabane.”

Well, when Asano phrases it like that, how can he resist?

* * *

 

Karma manages to place a fake intestine at an unguarded table. Oh, and the heart at the other.

The screams that the unsuspecting occupants let out when returning to the tables are priceless.

And he may or may not be cackling in glee in the corner, much to Asano’s exasperation.

It takes Asano’s charismatic smile and calm words to ensure everyone in the room that no, the organs are not real and rest assured, the hotel does not serve body parts to guests; these merely are props in light of Halloween.

Karma snickers again. He _loves_ Halloween.

* * *

 

Gakushuu glances at Akabane who’s humming cheerfully under his breath, cheeks a bit flushed from the alcohol he drank earlier tonight and eyes glowing brightly. His eyes rove over him again and Gakushuu asks curiously, “Are you that happy scaring away all my guests?”

Akabane snickers and points out, “They all stayed once you reassured them.”

Gakushuu shrugs. It’s true. People, not surprisingly, took it in stride. Halloween is a surprisingly forgiving holiday when he thinks of all the things that people – namely, Akabane- can get away with.

The elevator chimes. Gakushuu steps out and walks towards the apartment door with Akabane following after. He sighs and glances at his watch. 11 pm.

And he’s already exhausted from the events of today.

Gakushuu quickly works the key into the lock and opens the door. He has barely taken a step into the apartment when he hears what sounds like a mixture of shrieking, ungodly moaning, and a muffled scream.

He pauses and glances towards Akabane, “What on earth is that?”

Akabane shrugs and squints into the darkened apartment with a curious hum. “Why don’t we turn on the light and see?”

Akabane switches on the lights and the lights flicker overhead before clicking on.

They both stare at the scene, Gakushuu with a raised eyebrow and Akabane with a smirk.

A man is squirming on the ground in the middle of the living room. Gakushuu cautiously steps closer and notes how the caution tape that has somehow wound all over the man’s body, binding his arms and feet. Bright green slime also drips down over his hair, face, and clothes in thick clumps.

There are swinging bats overhead, shrieking with some recording device attached to them as well as a whole line of tied up white bed sheets with oni masks fluttering around the sofa, moaning in succession. A life-size skeleton is cleverly strung up to dance in front of the man, and all of the fake knives and axes that Akabane bought are all scattered over the blood splattered floor.

Akabane really did go all out in terms of audio and special effect. Not to mention, this must have been some spectacular Rube-Goldberg contraption.

Gakushuu’s lips twitch into a brief smile as he glances over at Akabane in amusement. “I thought it was strange why you wanted us to stay until this late.” He nods towards the still struggling man on the floor and continues, a hint of mirth in his voice. “To give him time to get into the apartment and…experience the atmosphere, right? How sadistic.”

“You should be talking.” Karma shrugs as he approaches the man. At his footsteps, the man immediately twists around to face them, eyes widening in alarm and panic. Mouth somehow muffled by the caution tape as well, he lets out a strangled noise and wriggles back.

Akabane smirks gleefully, eyes positively alight with mischief. He places a foot down on the guy to stop him from wriggling and twirls a scalpel he pulled out of somewhere.

The terrified expression in the guy’s face makes Gakushuu shake his head and repress an amused chuckle. He finds he appreciates Akabane’s proclivity for mischief more when the pranks are not aimed towards him.

Akabane glances over at him curiously and comments, “Asano, you seem distinctly unsurprised.”

Gakushuu raises an eyebrow. “Do I? Perhaps I had a magic eight ball.”

He shakes his cell phone slightly and Akabane doubles back to glance at it.

Blinking at the feed from the surveillance camera, Karma snickers and says amusedly, “Who’s the sadistic one now?”

To think Asano knew what was happening the whole time and decided to play along with his whim to stay at the party….

Man, he really underestimated Asano’s acting skills.

Asano, of course, shrugs and says smoothly, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He looks towards the culprit on the living room and adds, “The police has been notified.”

There’s a muffled stream of curses and Asano looks down disdainfully.

“Arakawa Keiichi, I assume?” The man immediately stills, eyes widening at Asano’s mention of his name. Asano continues condescendingly, “You’ve been harassing the tenants who lived in this penthouse. All because your parents left most of the assets to your sister and you wanted at least this apartment. It’s a little spiteful of you, don’t you think?”

“You did research,” Karma notes.

“I did. You on the other hand didn’t care who it was.” Karma shrugs with a grin. Gakushuu continues curiously, “How did you lure him in anyways?””

“I left a window opened,” Karma drawls with a smirk. “And may or may not let it slipped that I brought important work documents home. And mentioned that we would be gone for most of this evening.” He clucks his tongue and says pityingly, “I guess you never know who eavesdrops in the streets.”

Gakushuu shakes his head with a chuckle. “You’re impossible.”

Karma smirks and dangles a ziploc bag with what looks like hot peppers, a clothes-pin, and wasabi. “I still have time before the police arrive, right?”

Gakushuu idly wonders just how many pockets that doctor’s coat really has. It’s a bit overkill, but then again, it’s Halloween. He may as well let Akabane finish having fun.

Gakushuu shrugs and heads towards the kitchen. “Do what you want. Just let me claim plausible deniability if you get yelled for it later.”

 

* * *

 

After the police hauled away a very regretful looking Arakawa, Karma thinks that this has been a very, very productive Halloweeen.

He heads back to the sofa with the bowl in his hands. Asano is still adjusting the settings on the TV when he announces, “Candy and popcorn.”

Asano nods and glances at the myriad of DVDs on the coffee table. “We’re watching all of these?”

“Of course, what better to finish the night than a horror movie marathon?” Karma drawls as he plops down the sofa.”

Asano sighs and grumbles, “I’m only doing this because it was the only way for you to clean up the mess you made in catching Arakawa.”

Karma hums. “Whatever you say, Ace-kun.”

Asano rolls his eyes at that. He reaches out for the bowl and blinks when a gnarled, bright red monster’s hand flips up in the middle of the bowl.

Asano turns to give him an exasperated look. “Really? Even our tableware is Halloween themed?”

Karma shrugs and says cheerfully, “Of course, Ace-kun. The details are important.” He makes a shooing gesture with his fingers. “Hurry up and press the remote already.”

Asano sighs and settles back in the sofa.

“Stop hogging the blanket.”

“Shhh, Ace-kun. The movie is starting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Er, yup. I know it's not Halloween anymore, but um, better late than never? > . <
> 
> I hope you guys had fun reading this (and had an great Halloween) !! Please feel free to comment down below or leave a kudo! I'd love to hear what you guys think!!
> 
> I was really, really happy to know that you guys loved reading the first chapter and that it wasn't as much crack as I was afraid it was going to be. These two chapters on the other hand....er, lots of things happen. What can I say? I'm sleep deprived, stressed, sick, and in midterms week. There's bound to be weird things in my head. x)


	4. When Your Week Resembles a Poor Rip Off of a Bond movie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My god, has it really been 2 years since I've updated this fic? And to think I had this chapter lying around for some time before finally mustering up enough concentration and er, time, to finish it. Well, I suck as an author, but you all are wonderful, awesome people for readers, so please, enjoy ╰(◡‿◡✿╰)

Gakushuu stifles another yawn as he trudges down the stairs.

Mmn, time, what time is it right now?

He glances blearily towards the window in the living room. The sky gleams back at him, already a velvety violet with the city lights twinkling back at him in the reflection.

Huh. Past sunset. _Well_ past sunset, in fact. His eyes snap to the watch on his wrist, and he inwardly winces.

So much for taking a 30 minute power nap. He must be more exhausted than he thought.

Gakushuu sighs and raises an eyebrow as he descends down the stairs. To his right, the kitchen is completely shrouded in darkness – somberly and unfortunately so because that means two things.

One, he is reminded that he still has not eaten dinner yet.

 And it’s already – what? Ten pm? As if on cue, his stomach growls belligerently, making Gakushuu wince in chagrin. His eating habits these days need to be adjusted.

And two, judging from the bright glow on his left and the indistinct babble of the TV buzzing through the air, Akabane has set up camp in the living room.

Again.

On one hand, he feels relieved, _vindictively_ so, in knowing that this week is mutually hellish for the both of them. “Misery enjoys company” is more therapeutic than people realize.

Well, that and the fact that Karma’s lack of free time means no pranks, no mischief, and thank god, no time for his unfathomable  feud against the coffee machine. Having depleted all of his usual patience and self-control in the multitude of migraine inducing meetings, Gakushuu needs caffeine like a fish needs water to continue the basic task of breathing.

Hooray for small miracles.

On the other hand, there is something very depressing about the state of two twenty-five year olds still suffering the same erratic eating and sleeping schedules of a caffeine overdosing student during finals week.

Or at least _he_ is overdosing on caffeine. Karma, on the other hand, is consuming ungodly amounts of sugar, if the mountain of crushed cartons of his favorite strawberry juice in the recycling bin is any indication.

Gakushuu sighs as his eyes wander from the kitchen to the living room. How exactly did he arrive at this point in his life anyways? He raises an eyebrow at the lit up living room. And what exactly what is Akabane working on anyways that has him working overtime even at the apartment?

He pauses and glances at the dark kitchen again. Gakushuu highly doubts that Akabane has eaten either.

Well, not that Akabane’s eating habits matter to him. 

They don’t. Really. Which is why when he moves his feet, he finds himself already striding towards the living room for no particular, sane reason.

Gakushuu blames it on his morbid curiosity towards Akabane’s sudden diligent work ethic. That or his sleep deprivation is finally wrecking his motor skills.

Otherwise, why would he ever bother to check on - Gakushuu blinks, limbs stilling abruptly, as he blankly takes in the scene.

Papers strewn all over the floor. Manila folders wedged randomly between the sofa cushions. A heap of crushed energy drinks on the coffee table. And as Gakushuu toes a stray pen disdainfully, there is a ridiculous amount of writing utensils rolling all over the floor too.

Fantastic. Now their living room even looks like the inside of a dorm room during finals week.

Did _anything_ change since they graduated?

The familiar sharp rebuke is already on the tip of his tongue, but this is at least the sixth time in the past two weeks that the living room is a complete wreck. Besides the risk of being a nag, Gakushuu is not that fond of redundancy either.

Damn it, is he already normalizing this? And speaking of Akabane, where the hell is the idiot anyways?

His eyes sweep the room but there is no sight of Akabane.

Gakushuu frowns. Leave it to Akabane to disappear conveniently after creating the mess. Sometimes he wonders if this is how beleaguered cat owners feel when they leave their pets unsupervised for five minutes.

He eyes the papers fluttering on the floor, fingers already twitching with annoyance at the sight.

Huffing with resignation, Gakushuu leans down and methodically picks up the manila folders and stray papers as he makes his way towards the sofa. He immediately deposits the stack on the coffee table and pivots, ready to head towards the kitchen when a patch of vivid red catches in his peripheral vision.

Gakushuu lifts an eyebrow, turns, peers down to the left of the coffee table and down to the floor and . . . huh.

Akabane is curled atop of a makeshift futon of manila folders and stray documents, eyes closed, head tilted to the side and a black leather booklet still clutched in his fingers.

He is . . . sleeping, Gakushuu realizes with surprise.

It defeats the point of say, having a _sofa_. In fact, why does Akabane keep ignoring the perfectly fine furniture around him for the apparent comfort of the floor?

With raised eyebrows, Gakushuu steps closer and leans down, oddly fascinated by the rare sight.

Well, he is not the only one who needed to power nap then. Although by the looks of it, it’s far more accurate to say that Akabane unintentionally dozed off in the midst of reading his . . . something or another.  Gakushuu still is not certain what exactly Akabane is up to that merits this much research.

Gakushuu’s eyes sweep speculatively across Akabane, taking in the softened features  and the odd relaxed slope of his sleeping form, chest rising in sync with the slow, even breaths. Akabane’s bright red locks burn an even fiercer tangerine orange under the warm glow of the lamp and the ceiling lights. Lying on his side, Akabane has his legs curled up, an arm tucked under his head for support.

Akabane must truly be exhausted to drop his guard so blatantly like this, and in the living room too, no less. After all, as Gakushuu looks curiously at the folders jammed between the cushions, he thought Akabane would know better by now than to leave his important paperwork so carelessly strewn out in the open and in such easy reach of Gakushuu.

Hmm.

Lips twitching into a smirk, Gakushuu regards the folders once more before finally shrugging his shoulders in dismissal.

Tempting, he admits, but not worth it. Why poke at a sleeping bee hive? Anything Gakushuu does, he knows Akabane will retaliate in double, and while that can be amusing 50% of the time, it can be hellish the other 50%.

Besides, Gakushuu cannot afford to have any of his work presentations or endeavors sabotaged right now, not with the horrendous week he has been having.

No, better to keep to the impromptu truce that they have somehow implemented by virtue of their mutual sleep deprivation.

He surveys Akabane again, amused. Honestly, if not for the fact that Gakushuu just woke up from an hour long nap, he would be envious of how comfortably asleep Akabane is right now.

Unbidden, the image of a lounging cat flashes across Gakushuu’s mind. It’s distracting how uncannily true that analogy proves.  He stops and frowns. Then again, a _cat_? How sleep-deprived _is_ he to compare Akabane to a fluffy domesticated creature instead of the demon that everyone knows he is the living manifestation of?

Sleep deprived. Goddamn it, he’s definitely sleep-deprived.

As if tuned to Gakushuu’s inner mental turmoil, which knowing Akabane is probably – definitely – true, Akabane murmurs lowly and turns on his back. There is another loud crinkle of paper, another undecipherable mumble before Akabane groans and cracks open his eyes, the sliver of gold unnaturally bright and clear under the ceiling lights.

Gakushuu blankly stares down. Akabane squints up back at him in confusion. “Asano?”

At Gakushuu’s lack of response, Akabane groggily sits up, legs crisscrossed, and rubs his eyes, repeating again, voice still rough from sleep. “Asano? What are you doin’ here?”

Akabane tilts his head back to face him straight on, and Gakushuu’s eyes immediately flick from the tousled locks of hair to the angry red lines on Akabane’s right cheek, no doubt pressed from the manila folders that Akabane was using as impromptu pillow.

He belatedly registers Akabane’s question. Right. Well. Yes. Several things are wrong, in fact.

For one, what _is_ he doing here? It’s 10pm. He has not eaten dinner yet. Ergo, he should go scrounge up some food before his stomach threatens to stage a rebellion.

Two, Gakushuu can’t seem to tear his eyes away from that odd shadow – shadow? – on Akabane’s right cheek. He unconsciously frowns, narrowing his eyes. No, not a shadow. Ink, a stripe of dark blue ink slanted right across the cheekbone and smudging up into the corner of Akabane’s eye.

Eyebrows furrowing, he opens his mouth to make a disparaging remark about Akabane’s sleeping habits but then his fingers twitch and dart down, the pad of his thumb pressing into warm skin and swiping left in one quick motion so smooth that Gakushuu does not even register what he has done until Akabane makes a startled noise, eyes uncharacteristically wide. 

Gakushuu blinks slowly back at Akabane who is for once completely taken off guard, staring back at him with wide eyes and genuine surprise – Damn it, maybe he does have OCD – before realization dawns on him.

He – _What_ did he just do?

Gakushuu blinks again, foot automatically pivoting around and brain scrambling for an explanation. He finds none and settles for sitting abruptly on the sofa instead and snatching up the folders messily jammed between the cushions.

“Er, Asano? What  - “

“There is ink on your face,” Gakushuu interrupts gruffly, pointedly looking anywhere but at Akabane. He jerks another folder out, nearly ripping the cover as he does so. Damn it.

Akabane blinks again before swiveling his head to peer bewilderedly at his reflection in the glass surface of the lamp on the coffee table. “Oh.”

Akabane then rubs his cheek with his sleeve with a frown, muttering – thankfully - about the lack of functioning ballpoint pens in the apartment instead of Gakushuu’s lack of mental reasoning and appreciation of personal space.

Gakushuu mentally balks. Maybe he really is losing his sanity. He remembers reading a study about how sleep deprivation can kill brain cells. That is a plausible explanation, isn’t it? Because what possessed him to go into the living room anyways? Wasn’t he hungry? When did whatever lunacy Akabane was up to ever trump his own dietary needs?

He misses the days when he was _articulate_ and _rational_.

Gakushuu slams down the stack of folders on the coffee table. Gritting his teeth, Gakushuu risks a look down at Akabane who looks increasingly bewildered and – is that _concerned?_ Wonderful. No doubt for his mental health.

Oh, for god’s sake. Gakushuu looks balefully at the coffee table, willing the remedy to his terrifying lapse in rationale to appear along the grain of the wood. It does not, but Gakushuu snatches the tablet he spies tucked between blue folders on the right. His fingers reflexively tap out the pin number, and he busies himself looking through the emails with a scowl.

It takes him five minutes – because his mind is just that frazzled - before Gakushuu finally registers that the pin number worked; these _are_ his actual emails; and what the hell is Akabane doing with his tablet in the first place?

Karma blinks back at Asano who looks more and more pissed off by the second, if the deepening furrow in his forehead and the darkening scowl are any indicators.

Wasn’t Asano sleeping? He kind of vaguely remembers Asano trudging upstairs to his room and not coming down since then. Karma blinks again and looks down at his wrinkled shirt. The last thing he remembers is trying to decipher that godforsaken booklet before apparently dozing off here.

He looks askance at Asano who is wearing his patented I-am-either-going-to-kill-you-or-have-a-stroke expression. Karma blinks again.

He has not even _done_ anything today. No pranks. Nothing even remotely mischievous much less blood vessel bursting inducing.

Which, alright, is more because of his hectic work schedule than any voluntary choice on his part, but _still,_ for these past weeks, he has been a perfectly accommodating, normal roommate _._

Blech. The absolute travesty of it all.

Karma stops and glances down at the documents still scrunched underneath him. Er, well, besides the whole trashing the living room bit, but who says the living room can’t also be used as an impromptu office space? There are no rules to interior design -  or lack thereof.

. . . Yeah, ok, that was a rhetorical question. He found the trigger that set off Asano’s impending mental implosion right now. Messiness. It is _always_ messiness that gets to Asano. It’s like Asano has the delicate sensibilities of a housewife in the ‘50s.

Karma eyes Asano warily. Seriously though, it’s not like he _broke_ any of the furniture in here. The same cannot be said for say, the porcelain vase on the dining table, but Asano has thankfully – surprisingly – not realized that yet.

Well, with Asano leaving out the door at 7am in the morning nowadays and being preoccupied with his newest project and whatnot, Karma doubts that Asano stayed in the kitchen long enough _to_ notice.

Not that Karma plans to enlighten him anytime soon. Ignorance is bliss, after all. He pauses and glances at Asano. Unless . . . Asano finally went into the kitchen instead of ordering take-out and shutting himself inside his room to work like he has been for this past week.

Karma clears his throat and ventures, “Er, Asano? Did you by any chance cook today?”

Asano finally breaks his staring contest with the tablet and looks at him with more exasperation than Karma thinks should be warranted. “Do I _look_ like I have eaten yet?”

Karma raises his eyebrows at the prickly tone. Someone’s grumpy today. Maybe it’s not his fault, after all. Business deal gone bad?

Then again, he doesn’t understand Asano in general, so who knows? This could just be Asano’s brilliantly sunny disposition coming through again.

Karma picks up the forgotten black booklet in his lap and sighs. Five hours in, and he’s still no farther along in deciphering the damn thing. Still sitting on the floor, he leans back against the sofa leg and stretches his arms over his head, groaning at the tell-tale crack of bone.

Man, maybe he needs a new game plan. Karma pauses and stares dubiously down at the book. Or maybe he needs a cipher.

Wary of the sudden lack of response, Gakushuu glances down at Akabane staring unhappily at the seemingly innocuous black booklet in his hands.

Glaring, in fact, now that Gakushuu notices the eyebrows pinched together and lips slanted downwards.

Usually, he makes it a point to not be curious about Akabane and his activities. For several reasons. One, Gakushuu rather cherishes his sanity and welfare. Or what’s left of it, apparently, by his brilliant display just now. Two, it is not worth opening a Pandora’s box worth of a month of migraines and possible legal repercussions just to satisfy three minutes of curiosity.

It really isn’t. At all.

But Akabane is rarely frustrated – or at least visibly so – and Gakushuu cannot help but ask, “What exactly are you reading?”

It takes a whole two minutes before Akabane blinks from his glaring contest with the book and peers up at Gakushuu in delayed surprise. “What?”

“The book. What are you reading? Or is there an actual literary work that surpasses your reading comprehension skills?”

At that, Akabane’s expression immediately brightens. “Oh? Is Ace-kun acknowledging my literary skills then?”

“What skills?” Gakushuu retorts as he skims through the emails with a frown. The more he scrolls down, the more question marks in the subject headings there are. It’s a bit alarming. “Your abuse of emoticons makes me wonder if you have forgotten how to construct proper sentences or words, for that matter.”

Akabane hums and shakes the book slightly, drawling, “Oh, come now. Ace-kun, can’t you see by the cover that it’s a little black book?”

Gakushuu looks back at him, eyes flicking from the book and then to Akabane’s mischievous grin. He voices slowly, “And when you say black book, you’re not referring to the color, are you?”

Already, he regrets asking.

“Bingo,” Akabane sings out cheerfully, guileless delight dancing in his eyes as he checks Gakushuu for his reaction.

Gakushuu blinks slowly before he abruptly turns back to the tablet.

Of course, Akabane would be shameless about reading what looks like blackmail material right here in the middle of their living room.  What the hell was he expecting? A collection of poems? A work of actual literary merit?

Sleep deprived. He must still be sleep deprived to initiate a conversation with Akabane.

There is a pause before Akabane abruptly stands up and deliberately drops down carelessly on the sofa. Gakushuu privately frowns as the sofa creaks. Akabane adjusts himself for several minutes before finally resting his back against the arm of the sofa, legs stretched out before him on the cushions and a mere inch away from Gakushuu. He tilts his head as if this is completely normal and asks curiously, “Aren’t you going to ask who it belongs to?”

“No. I’d like to have some semblance of plausible deniability in the future,” Gakushuu says immediately, not sparing Akabane another glance as he continues reading the emails.

Being implicated in any of Akabane’s schemes is only going to give him more stress-induced migraines.

And legal fees.

Not to mention Gakushuu’s list of people who may or may not have a grudge against him due to his er, _merciless_ business decisions, which is quite. . . well, let’s just say, he does not need any more enemies.

As if he can read his mind, Akabane sighs as if in disappointment and comments, “You really like that term, don’t you?”

“Consider it a precaution for lawsuits in the future.”

Akabane clucks his tongue in mock disapproval. “So paranoid, Ace-kun.” His foot suddenly swings into Gakushuu’s thigh and Gakushuu abruptly looks up from the tablet to glare to his left at Akabane.

Or more specifically at the offending foot. He scowls and shoves the foot away.

Undeterred, Akabane merely swings it back onto his thigh and as if to further spite Gakushuu, nudges his knee with his other foot.

Gakushuu can feel his eyebrow twitching as he glowers darkly down at the _two_ offending limbs now. “Do you not understand the concept of personal space?”

As soon as the words slip out, his mouth snaps shut at the reminder of the earlier incident. Personal space. Right. Clearly, Gakushuu is out of it today.

Akabane thankfully does not recognize the hypocrisy and instead taps the leather bound book thoughtfully. “Ne, you’re not even slightly curious?” At Gakushuu’s flat expression, Akabane tilts his head again, lips drawn in a taunting smirk as he presses insistently, “Not even a _little_?”

“ _No_ ,” Gakushuu emphasizes as he shoves Akabane’s feet away, but he already sees Akabane grinning from ear to ear, eyes bright with barely repressed childish glee.

Gakushuu lets out a long suffering sigh and continues sarcastically, “But who cares what I think? You’re going to tell me regardless.”

Akabane grins and crows triumphantly with a spread of his arms, “Statesman Ito!”

Gakushuu blinks.

Statesman. . . Ito?

His mind quickly speeds through the implications of that statement and Gakushuu starts slowly, “. . . I will pretend that I didn’t hear that.”

And erase this entire conversation from his mind should whatever Akabane is planning blows up in his face. He shakes his head and focuses back on the tablet screen, adding wryly, “No wonder he ran away from you at the hotel.”

“I told you that big fishes can be caught,” Akabane hums, obviously pleased with his accomplishment. He raises an eyebrow and drawls slyly, “Is Ace-kun curious now?”

There is an edge of anticipation to his tone that makes Gakushuu pause curiously. He raises an eyebrow and surveys Akabane, taking in the bright mischief in his expression, the restless energy practically thrumming off Akabane’s form.

Honestly. It’s just like Akabane to be lighting up with joy like a kid on Christmas morning over the prospect of manipulating someone.

The corner of his mouth twitches, and oh, what the hell, he’ll play along. Today is the day for bad decisions anyways.

Gakushuu leans back against the sofa and keeps his voice nonchalant, “Weren’t you eager to tell me a minute ago? Why are you playing coy now?”

“I thought Ace-kun wanted to have plausible deniability,” Akabane deliberately taunts, lips tugging up in an even wider smirk. “Or are you worried?”

Gakushuu raises an eyebrow and wonders aloud, “Why would I be worried?”

Akabane tilts his head and says innocently, “Aren’t you on close terms with the congressman? He was at the hotel after all.”

Gakushuu holds in a derisive snort. The idea is preposterous. Close terms? He can count the number of conversations he had with the congressman with one hand.  And none of those conversations spanned more than several minutes.

Hardly anything to merit friendship. Even the word ‘acquaintance’ would apply loosely.

Gakushuu instead shrugs and answers condescendingly, “Perhaps, because supporting new businesses in the community was a good publicity event for him.”

“Or for you. Maybe it was a thank you for sponsoring him,” Akabane drawls.

“You make it sound like it’s a conspiracy,” Gakushuu comments wryly before continuing innocently, “Am I not supposed to curry favor with politicians?”

Akabane shrugs and smirks. “As long as it’s done appropriately.”

He gives Gakushuu another amused look and Gakushuu refrains from rolling his eyes again. There Akabane goes again trying to provoke him again just for the sake of it. Gakushuu replies unconcernedly, “Do you have evidence that supports otherwise?”

At that, Akabane snickers and waves the book to enunciate his point. “Of course not. Ace-kun is too smart to leave a trail of breadcrumbs.” He waves the book, smirking. “Unlike _some_ people.”

“I’m flattered,” Gakushuu says dryly before he nods towards the book. “Why are you taking so long to read it?”

It has to be several days – weeks? - since he has seen Akabane with the book. That’s more than enough time for Akabane to finish reading, scheme, and harass his target.

Akabane shrugs, but his smile falters a bit, and Gakushuu can recognize the slight irritated twitch of his eyebrows.  “It’s bad handwriting.”

Gakushuu blinks, not expecting that answer. Bad handwriting?

Akabane grins a bit at Gakushuu’s disbelieving expression and sits up. He flips the book to face Gakushuu and taps the page. “See?”

Gakushuu leans forward with furrowed eyebrows and scans the black inked letters messily scrawled on the page.

That really is messy. In fact, are these numbers or letters? Code?

“Even a pharmacist can write more legibly than this.” He squints at a line of symbols printed haphazardly at the top of the page. They look like deformed stick figures than actual letters or numbers. Although . . . He squints and thinks that the last unit might be a 4 and huh, the third group of inked characters has 8 in total. Hmm. Gakushuu counts through the characters again and wonders aloud, “Isn’t that a bank account number?”

Akabane immediately blinks and turns the book back to himself. “Really? These are numbers?” He bites his lips and assesses the page again.  “Huh. You’re right. As expected of Ace-kun.”

He pauses and peers over at Gakushuu over the top of the book with a grin. With an amused lilt in his voice, he points out, “You know Ace-kun, you don’t seem at all concerned for the owner of this book.”

“Why would I?” Gakushuu says bluntly. “We are not close acquaintances.” He pauses and adds as afterthought, “Well, he did voice his support for the hotel’s construction, but I would have received approval from the city regardless.”

Akabane snickers and glances back at the book. “How coldhearted of you.”

“I don’t want to hear that from a person who’s reading someone else’s black book,” Gakushuu counters without any real spite. He continues scrolling down the rest of his emails – Goddamn it, half of these are from his development team. Exactly just how many times is this project going to be postponed because of some interruption? – and adds idly, “And who most likely acquired that book through less than proper means.”

“You know me so well,” Akabane hums and flips a page again.

“You say it like it’s a good thing,” Gakushuu says wryly. He clicks on one of the emails and skims through the content quickly. A change with the design plan?

Oh, for Pete’s sake. Why the hell would the design plan change at this stage?

Gakushuu frowns and quickly types up a response, ordering the team to meet with him tomorrow for an explanation. He stops and frowns again. Judging by the increasing tone of panic in the emails, perhaps he should message Yumiko about a possible meeting with the architect in charge as well.

Karma scans the page again and hums thoughtfully. Fraud credit card companies . . . Bank account numbers . . . Exactly how involved is the congressman in the banking scandal?

He needs more names. There definitely is a network of co-conspirators in place here.

Karma sighs. Damn it, he needs a better plan unless he wants to continue until the godforsaken hours of the night. He misses the days when he woke up in an actual bed instead of the living room sofa.

Karma rolls his shoulders before stretching his legs out again. He deliberately nudges Asano again with his feet as he does so because well, why not? Asano does not seem to notice though. In fact, Asano looks like he’s a step away from tossing the tablet out the window if the increasingly violent keystrokes are any indication.

Karma spares a moment to pity the poor recipient of that email. Asano, after all, handles words with just as much precision and lethality as an assassin would with actual knives.

Speaking of Asano, Karma scans him carefully before raising an eyebrow. Asano’s collared shirt and slacks, normally pressed and irritatingly pristine like they came straight off the latest editorial page, are rumpled, his tie skewed to the left and sleeves roughly shoved up to the elbows. Karma huffs silently in amusement when he notices the tuft of hair standing straight up at the back of Asano’s head.

It is definitely uncharacteristic of Asano. After all, how exhausted must Asano be to forget to change out of his work clothes before taking a nap much less to not notice his bedhead?

It’s a little surreal to see Asano so blatantly tired, especially since back in school, he was the shining example of a superhuman. Karma hums as he tilts his head back and squints through his splayed out fingers against the overhead lights.

Even geniuses suffer, and he supposes, even lunatics who wake up at five in the morning to vacuum – lunatic because he definitely still isn’t over that – are still human after all. Huh.

Karma gazes absentmindedly back at the ceiling – man, he’s definitely not going to decipher the booklet anytime soon tonight – and remembers Asano’s earlier question. Now that he thinks of it, yup, he has not eaten either, judging by the sudden red hot burn in his stomach. It’s probably not healthy to eat so late. He hums, “So what are we having for dinner?”

He does not really expect an answer, but the vibrating keystrokes immediately stop, and Karma’s gaze swings back to Asano, who immediately frowns in heavy contemplation.

Karma’s lips twitch upwards, and he says teasingly, “Ace-kun, I asked what we’re having for dinner, not what the answer to the universe is. Or does our refrigerator have a secret that I don’t know about?”

“Very funny,” Asano mutters before he blinks and makes a rather pained expression, “Did you _want_ to eat a cooked meal?”

“Not particularly. You know, you can just say that you don’t feel like cooking.” Karma raises an eyebrow and grins. “Why do you look like I’m dragging you through some personal hell?”

Asano mutters something that sounds suspiciously like “Every day with you is a personal hell” before typing again.

Karma grins again and does not bother sitting up as he continues, “You know, you’re not the only one who can cook.”

Asano pauses for a moment and to Karma’s surprise, agrees, “You’re right. Dinner is up to you, then.”

Karma blinks. Wait. Up to him? That means -

“Oi, Ace-kun. I’m not understanding this irrational expectation to cook and feed you,” he complains because damn it, he does not feel like cooking either, and now that he thinks of it, since when have they been having meals together anyways?

Asano smirks, a sudden amused gleam to his eyes. “How is it irrational? Seeing how I keep buying the groceries, thanks to _someone_ who keeps conveniently disappearing at the cash register. The least you could do is prepare them.”

Karma lifts an eyebrow and counters easily, “I must have missed when we made this arrangement. Was there a clause in the roommate contract that I had to be your live-in cook?”

“Was there one where I had to be your personal housekeeper?” Asano shoots back, a hint of irritation in his voice as he looks pointedly at the coffee table now cleared of the jack-o-lanterns.

In Karma’s defense, he did not _intend_ for the pumpkins to rot.

Truly. It just . . . ended up that way, and by then, the blue splotches surprisingly accentuated the sinister expressions of the pumpkins. He thought they looked aesthetically grotesque.

You know, artistically speaking.

Besides, he was going to throw them away once they started to smell.

. . . Asano did not feel the same way.

At all.

He spent a half hour, _at least_ , ranting about the possible health hazards and how goddamn it, just because their apartment looks like Satan’s lair doesn’t mean Karma should try to make their apartment an _actual_ living hell.

Needless to say, the pumpkins all went flying down the trash chute that day.

Karma sighs and deliberately turns back to his book, raising it above his head, as he comments, “You like cleaning, Asano. No one is forcing you to dust the bookcases.” He pauses, looking over at Asano a bit exasperatedly and points out for what has to be the tenth time. _At least_. “And also we have a maid.”

“ _Had_ ,” Gakushuu corrects with a frown. “She resigned last week.”

Karma blinks. Huh.

Well, he imagines the maid did not do any hard labor here anyways, not with Asano still keeping up with his own vacuuming and organizing. Seriously, what was the point of hiring a maid in the first place?

He glances at Asano again and starts deliberately slowly, “No one sane can adhere to your OCD standards. You know that, right?”

Asano’s eyebrow twitches slightly as he growls, voice edged with irritation, “Actually, the reason she gave was the hellish Halloween display that _someone_ refuses to let be cleaned up.”

Oh. Huh.

Karma takes in the cobwebs still hanging down from the ceiling and shrugs. He lowers the book and smiles innocently at Asano. “What’s wrong with this interior design? You had no problem with it before.”

Asano’s expression immediately darkens, and Karma feels more thrilled than he probably should. Which says something about his self-preservation or lack thereof, especially considering the murderous glare that Asano is currently directing his way.

Instead of throwing Karma out of the window like what Asano’s expression very much so suggests, Asano says evenly, tone crisp and sharp. “I tolerated this madness because it was Halloween. Halloween has passed. _Several_ weeks ago. It is now _mid-_ _November_. Tell me you understand this.”

Oh, he does, but why should a measly calendar date matter?

Spooks and ghosts should be enjoyed 24/7 anytime of the day, month, and year.

Karma grins and drawls, “I celebrate Halloween 365 days, Ace-kun.”

He suppresses another snicker as Asano’s eyebrow twitches again. Asano closes his eyes, visibly reining in his frustration, before opening them again. This time, Asano’s eyes flash a warning shade of purple that has Karma grinning instinctively back in anticipation.

Asano smiles and says, voice smooth and deceptively pleasant, “Let me phrase this another way. This,” He gestures around the apartment and emphasizes, “ _All of this_ , is trash to me and unfortunately, I can’t seem to differentiate the decorations from your actual belongings.” Asano pauses and his voice turns falsely sympathetic, “We’d hate for something like the trash chute incident to happen again.”

Yeah, the one where Asano threw away all of his files.

It’s unfortunately not hard to imagine Asano happily flinging Karma’s entire closet down the chute if Karma does not comply.

He should be miffed, but when Karma surveys Asano again, his lips twitch upwards and he’s overcome with the sudden urge to laugh.

It’s fun to have someone counter Karma’s eccentricities with veiled threats and an even more misleading smile. Any other roommate would have cleared the apartment and moved to the opposite side of the city by now.

Karma suppresses a chuckle and instead hums, “Pity. I’d hate to indulge your obsession with spring cleaning, so I guess, I’ll have to clean up this wonderful masterpiece.”

Asano blinks, obviously surprised at Karma’s easy acceptance. He looks at Karma warily but replies nevertheless, “Our apartment is a haunted mansion at best, not some lauded art exhibition.”

“Beauty is the eye of the beholder,” Karma quips, waving a hand dramatically in the air for effect.

“Does that apply to sanity as well?” Asano answers back without missing a beat, voice as dry as a sidewalk under a July sun. Karma thinks there’s the barest hint of a smirk on Asano’s lips though, and he finds himself grinning again, pleased.

He likes this too, the way he can banter and trade insults with Asano. Some of his colleagues at work – ahem, Tobio, more specifically – does not get half of his _sarcasm,_ so conversations are not as fun as they ought to be.

He smiles and asks innocently, “Have you looked at your reflection?”

“What is that supposed to imply?”

Karma pauses and pretends to deliberate before shrugging his shoulders. “Just that we hold very different views on what constitutes as sanity.”

Asano narrows his eyes and growls, “You -”

“I’m going to order take-out,” Karma interrupts, wisely jumping off the sofa before Asano gets the idea to shove him off it.

Asano pauses at that and frowns. “We’ve eaten take out for two weeks straight already.”

Well, it’s not his fault that Asano seems to be favoring take-out lately. Eating take-out every day is not unusual for Karma. What _is_ unusual is that he now orders for the both of them because they seem to like the same places. The poor delivery kid should not have to come all the way up to the same penthouse floor two times in the same night when the elevators are still out of operation.

See? Who says he doesn’t have a heart?

Karma doesn’t say that aloud though and instead answers pointedly, “Then did you want to cook?”

Asano looks back at the tablet and says unconcernedly, “I don’t feel like eating take out.”

Karma blinks again at the matter-of-fact answer. But before he can ask why the hell Asano’s eating habits are suddenly his problem, Asano continues, voice annoyingly blasé, “And you are not doing anything right now anyways.”

Karma lifts an eyebrow and clears his throat, shaking the booklet pointedly.

Asano returns the look and challenges, “I’ve seen you with that book for weeks now. Surely, you made at least _some_ progress with it.”

Karma shrugs. “It’s difficult. Why are you rushing me, Ace-kun? Also, where are you getting your unrealistic expectations that I’m going to – Asano?”

Asano leans forward and grabs the booklet, and Karma is half – impressed at Asano’s reflexes and half-annoyed that the booklet slipped out of his fingers so easily.

Asano thumbs the book and pauses on a random page. “How difficult can it be?”

Karma looks on with surprise as Asano scans the page crossly. With more exasperation than Karma thinks is merited here – because honestly, his inability to read someone’s chicken scratch should not be inconveniencing Asano. If anything, he should be the one irritated here – Asano says with a sigh, “The top line reads 011103094.”

Karma reaches out and takes the booklet, squinting at the open page. Huh. Alright, so it isn’t a 9 after all, but he would have gotten it. Eventually. Probably.

Karma pauses. Well, if Asano wants to be helpful, then why not take advantage of it?

He throws the booklet to Asano, who easily catches it even as he looks questioningly back. Karma points to the book, drawling, “Transcribe that part and I’ll reconsider cooking dinner.”

Asano frowns then as he stares suspiciously down at the book in his hands. Karma thinks he is about to refuse and mention plausible deniability again when Asano sighs and leans back against the sofa. “I want chicken curry then.”

Karma blinks, caught off guard once gain.  He shakes his head and gets to his feet with a chuckle.  “Fine, fine.”

Man, the things he finds himself doing these days.

* * *

 

The curry surprisingly tastes fine, if not a tad too spicy. Gakushuu suspects that the only reason his tongue is not on fire right now is because he managed to transcribe a few – alright, 3 - pages of the booklet, much to Akabane’s pleased surprise.

He admits it.  It’s a miracle Akabane got as far as he did in the booklet. His eyes are watering now after squinting at the black squiggles on those pages for so long.

Still. . .

Gakushuu rests his cheek in his hand, hiding his amused smirk, as he watches Akabane open the drawer for another spoon. He did not think Akabane would actually _agree_ to make dinner.

Akabane closes the drawer and turns to the fridge to take out the carton of strawberry juice. He calls out idly, “You know, you’re doing the dishes.”

“I’ll _help_ you do them,” Gakushuu corrects.

Akabane rummages through the cabinets for a glass and says distractedly, “You’re so high-maintenance, Ace-kun. Why can’t you feel a little sympathy for the chef here?”

Gakushuu rolls his eyes at that and retorts, “Perhaps because the said chef had me decipher blackmail material for the food.”

“You agreed, Ace-kun,” Akabane comments with a grin. “I think it’s a fair deal.”

“Being a co-conspirator in exchange for food? Don’t you think you’re overestimating your culinary skills?’”

Akabane laughs aloud at that, the sound startled and genuinely amused. Gakushuu shakes his head and turns back to his food even as he can feel his lips twitching upwards.

Honestly.

* * *

 

Time: Tuesday

“Get me a different architecture firm. And reject the contract and the city’s proposal. We are withdrawing our bid.” Gakushuu says curtly as he strides down the hallway.

Irritation flickers red hot in his vision, and he has to bite back the stream of curses on his tongue.

Oh, he’s really, _really_ ticked off right now.

Fujiwara lets out a strangled sound and quickens his pace to match Gakushuu’s. “But, s-sir, the design plans have been finalized and – and what about the city committee? They already gave their approval -”

Gakushuu stops abruptly and pivots sharply to face Fujiwara. He lifts an eyebrow and says coolly, “Fujiwara-san.”

Fujiwara immediately swallows hard and nervously shifts his feet. “Y-yes, President?”

He immediately freezes as Gakushuu gives him a hard look, violet eyes unknowingly gleaming dangerously. Gakushuu repeats slowly, voice low and edged with displeasure, “ _We are withdrawing from this project. Am I clear?_ ”

Fujiwara widens his eyes and quickly nods, stammering out his confirmation. “I-I understand.”

At Gakushuu’s raised eyebrow, Fujiwara quickly excuses himself and hurries off in the opposite direction.

Gakushuu exhales, trying to recompose himself. After negotiating with the city committee, redoing the design plans . . . the countless hours of departmental meetings, the luncheons to reassure the investors. . . after all of that and finally getting the funds and the land grant, the architecture firm has the nerve to scrap the design plans and start all over, citing needed modifications?

And ones that somehow call for twice the original budget and is less eco-friendly than the previous design?

And then the city committee has the audacity to submit their newly revised report that they conveniently forgot to hand over to the company until now.

A broken water pipeline that the city still has not fixed yet, nearby residential areas who are protesting the revitalization of the area into a shopping center stating things from noise disturbances to concerns about the potential rise in rent prices. And then the completely asinine appearance of the housing committee from the next district over, proclaiming hotly that the land in question is theirs and so, the city had no right to hand over the land grant without consulting them.

In actuality, the goddamned piece of land is somehow on the border between two districts. He cannot even resolve the damn problem because putting aside the apparent incompetence of his attorneys, no one knows _who it belongs to_ for god’s sakes.

Unacceptable. Completely unacceptable.

Gakushuu clenches his jaw and storms towards his office. He is not an idiot.

For starters, he checked the list of construction materials that the architecture firm ordered, and it’s clear that the so called need for the expanded budget is going towards the commission fee than the materials themselves.

And then considering the absolute mess in paperwork and the necessary safety precautions and repairs, they are going to be mired in tedious negotiations for several months with the city on the responsibilities of each party.

All that before construction can even _start_.

Gakushuu inhales sharply and curses under his breath. He hates leaving things unfinished. It implies that he has failed in some way and failure is not something Gakushuu tolerates.

But, the project is clearly unprofitable. It is better to explain that to the investors now than to wait until the contract is signed and explain that the company is now bound to a piece of land that will only saddle them with debt and liability issues.

He made the most rational decision here. Gakushuu knows it, but his fingers clench in irritation, heartbeat pulsing angrily under his skin, and oh, is he going to have a discussion today with all the departmental heads on their utter incompetence and apparent suicidal wishes for allowing an oversight as severe as this to happen.

He bites back a growl. His temples throb, and he is either going to have a migraine from the sheer stupidity around him or an aneurysm from suppressing his murderous intent all day.

God, this project was definitely cursed from the start.

At his arrival, Yumiko quickly stands up, expression wary as she takes in his tense demeanor. She frowns ever so slightly but says calmly, “President, you have a visit-“

“Reschedule it. Call all the departmental heads to my office now.”

“I understand. But, you have a -”

“ _Immediately_ ,” Gakushuu emphasizes harshly as he dismisses the rest of her words and strides into his office.

“But President -”

The glass doors swing shut off behind him and effectively cut off the rest of her words.

Gakushuu barely takes a punctuated, angry step forward before he freezes, all anger evaporating for complete shock. He stares blankly at Akabane sitting cross-legged in the brown leather chair.

. . . _What._

He blinks, but the image is not a hallucination and Akabane really is sitting placidly there in his office.

Akabane raises an eyebrow, eyes scanning Gakushuu’s expression before his usual half-smile turns sheepish. “Er, Ace-kun, is this a bad time?”

Gakushuu blinks again.

Hasn’t he suffered enough today? Is this the universe’s way of irritating him today? To send after him karma in both its figurative and literal sense?

Akabane’s arrival can only be the bad omen that will turn this day from shitty to straight out catastrophic.

Gakushuu crosses his arms and scowls, “Why are you here? Did the apartment finally burn down?”

Because that would be the goddamned cherry on the sundae that is today’s clusterfuck.

“Don’t be silly, Ace-kun,” Akabane quips lightly, eyes flicking momentarily to the clock on the wall and back to Gakushuu. He moves off the chair in one fluid motion and continues rather quickly, “Come on, let’s go.”

Gakushuu furrows his eyebrows. “Go where?” He stops and frowns. “Actually, how did you get in here in the first place?”

Akabane smiles and nods towards the glass door, replying nonchalantly. “Sasaki-san let me in, of course.”

She _what_?

Gakushuu turns his head to stare disbelievingly towards the door and barks, voice stark with incredulity, “What? Why?”

Akabane shrugs and reaches out to tug at his arm, pulling towards the door with a hum. “Come on, Ace-kun. We’re going to be late.”

“Late for what?” Gakushuu snaps, half in irritation and half in pure bewilderment as he shakes off Akabane’s hand. “Since when do we have plans tonight?”

Akabane pauses and looks up, eyes wide, and says rather innocently, “I asked you, remember?”

Gakushuu deadpans, “No. Not at all.” Akabane shoves him towards the door again, and Gakushuu immediately curses again as he digs in his heels into the carpet to resist the shove.

“When did this so called conversation happen, huh? Are you absolutely insane– stop pushing me, you lunatic!”

Akabane tilts his head and levels such a questioning glance towards him that Gakushuu’s eyebrow twitches with irritation. Oh, this goddamned bastard. “Last night. When you were in the shower.”

Gakushuu clenches his jaw and eyes the phone on his desk. It’s not too late to call security, is it?

Akabane yanks his arm again, and Gakushuu has to wrench back his arm as he growls, “I couldn’t even hear you.”

Which, knowing Akabane, is precisely why he asked him at that time.

Gakushuu scowls and glares at Akabane, who predictably smirks back. Akabane pulls his arm again as he hums, “Well, you said yes.”

He most certainly did not.

Gakushuu narrows his eyes and grits out, “You misunderstood. I said ‘Yes?’ As in ‘Yes, you delusional asshole? Why the hell are you knocking on the door right now? The door is locked for a goddamned reason!’ ”

Akabane shrugs and says condescendingly, “How was I supposed to get all that in one syllable? I’m not telepathic, Ace-kun.”

“Stop pulling me!” Gakushuu barks, fingers scrabbling on the door frame as Akabane yanks him again out the door. Just how strong is Akabane anyways?

He glowers at Akabane again and kicks him in the knee. Akabane immediately curses in pain but tightens his grip on Gakushuu’s arm, his fingers digging sharply into Gakushuu’s skin. He yanks again and complains impatiently, “Ace-kun, why are you being difficult? Let go of the door frame already!”

“You -” Gakushuu manages out before he nearly loses his balance. Oh, this stupid asshole – It’s not like Akabane has a shortage of people to harass. So what the hell is this, huh?

He digs in his heels again and hisses out, voice sharp with frustration, “Unlike _some_ people, I actually have work to do!”

“Hence you have employees,” Akabane huffs out, eyebrows creased with exasperation.

Yes, _incompetent_ ones.

Akabane tightens his grip again and yanks again. “Come on, Ace-kun. Stop being stubborn!”

Gakushuu thinks that this tug-of-war might end with his arm being torn off at this rate. Still, he tries to tug his arm back and yells, “I have a meeting right now, you idiot. Not to mention another one in another hour. Stop annoying me already!”

Akabane frowns almost petulantly as he argues, “Sasaki-san already moved it and she can reschedule the other one.  Er. Probably. I guess. So stop, argh, worrying and let go already!”

“She _what?_ ” Gakushuu voices out incredulously as he whips his head to look at Yumiko through the glass door. She breaks away from her bewildered gaze at the scene and shrugs apologetically. Why the hell is his secretary accommodating his demented roommate?

Before he can ask just that, Akabane takes advantage of his pause to pull him entirely out of the doorway. Gakushuu half stumbles forward and Akabane drags him towards Yumiko’s desk. “Ah, Sasaki-san? Do you know where Asano’s car is parked by any chance?”

Before Yumiko can open her mouth, Gakushuu warns, “Don’t you dare tell him! In fact, call securit – Mmmph!”

Gakushuu glowers indignantly at Akabane’s hand covering his mouth. Ignoring Gakushuu’s muffled curses, Akabane tsks in mock rebuke and says with a drawl, “Don’t make this difficult for her, Ace-kun.” He raises his eyebrow at Yumiko and presses, “Do you?”

Yumiko blinks, clearly hesitant, as her gray eyes flick from Gakushuu’s outraged expression to Akabane’s deceptively accommodating one. She settles on shrugging her shoulders in one apologetic graceful motion before looking adamantly back at her computer screen and continuing her typing.

Gakushuu might have been touched by her loyalty if not for the glaring fact that she still makes no move towards the gleaming black phone that sits untouched on her desk.

For all the -

“Right. We’ll just play scavenger hunt in the parking lot then,” Akabane drawls with a grin before he lets go of Gakushuu’s mouth to tighten his grip on Gakushuu’s arm instead.

“Have you completely lost it? Where the hell are you dragging me now?” Gakushuu demands with a scowl as he tries to yank his arm away. Needless to say, it does not work and their limbs more or less get entangled as they stumble into the elevator with a fall.

Gakushuu lets out a pained groan as his hip hits the bar in the elevator as Akabane sits sprawled on the floor as he rubs his leg with a grimace.

Before Gakushuu can straighten though, Akabane lunges towards the buttons, hand reaching up and slamming the button to close the elevator door.

Gakushuu’s eyebrow twitches. Oh, he’s definitely going to have to a talk with his security team. And Yumiko.

* * *

 

After essentially kidnapping Gakushuu and his car, Akabane finally stops and parks inside the parking structure.

Or well, parking is an understatement. Rather, what Akabane does is more like swerving the car sharply into the empty space, nearly nicking the car beside them, and making Gakushuu’s blood pressure skyrocket to dangerously heart attack levels.

Of course, Akabane does not seem to notice the near car accident he caused. Instead, he turns off the ignition and turns back towards Gakushuu with a grin as careless as ever and eyes bright with anticipation.

Gakushuu’s eyebrow twitches again. If he ever finds the person who taught Akabane how to drive. . .

Akabane makes a small noise as he tilts his head and scrutinizes Gakushuu for a moment.

Gakushuu furrows his eyebrows and asks warily, “What?”

“You’re too dressed up, Ace-kun,” Akabane finally decides with an assessing gaze.

Dressed up? He glances at Akabane who’s dressed in dark jeans, a black hoodie, and a dark blue v-necked sweater.

Gakushuu raises an eyebrow and says irritated, “You dragged me out of work. Or did you forget?”

Akabane does not comment and instead reaches over to tug at Gakushuu’s black blazer. “This needs to come off.”

“What?” Gakushuu says confusedly, fingers coming to stop Akabane’s own persistent ones undoing the buttons. “Oi, stop undressing me!”

“Oh, this is surprising. Is Ace-kun being shy all of a sudden?” Akabane hums with a smirk as he more or less yanks off the apparently offending article of clothing. He pauses, eyes scanning Gakushuu once more, before shaking his head. “The tie needs to go too.”

He reaches out once more with his fingers before Gakushuu slaps them away with a frown. He says exasperated, “I’ll do it myself. Do me a favor and sit there without harassing me.”

Akabane snickers before he sits back in his seat. “Fine, fine.”

Deftly undoing the grey striped tie, Gakushuu pauses before tugging it off. “Happy?”

Akabane surveys him and frowns slightly. Before he can comment though, Gakushuu sighs and says, “Let me guess. The cufflinks too?”

He undoes them and idly pushes the sleeves of the white collared shirt of his elbows. “Are you going to tell me where you abducted me to?”

“Abducted? Isn’t that too harsh of a term?” Akabane drawls. At Gakushuu’s unimpressed stare though, he snickers again and amends, “Ah, well it’s a surprise. Come on, Ace-kun.”

* * *

 

Gakushuu is not sure what he expected, but when Akabane saunters towards the movie theater, Gakushuu immediately stills in disbelief.

He blinks once at the bright neon sign, fingers twitching with an overwhelming urge to hit Akabane.

Gakushuu starts slowly, voice flat and emotionless, “You dragged me out of work early so we can see a movie?” Akabane tilts his head back and grins. Gakushuu stares at him and enunciates clearly, “At _7_?”

“Mm-hmm,” Akabane nods, as if there is absolutely nothing wrong with kidnapping someone and bringing them to a movie theater.

“Wait!” Akabane’s eyes widen as he just barely blocks Gakushuu’s fist. “Wait, Asano, let me explain - ”

Gakushuu lunges forward, eyes flashing murderously as he hisses, “I am going to kill you. You –“

Akabane suddenly grabs his arm and unceremoniously yanks him behind the white and blue candy cane striped column to their right. Gakushuu splutters in indignation, wrenching his arm back – Oh, he’s so going to kill this idiot – but Akabane tugs him down again  and crouches next to him with a harried expression and a loud shush. The action is so nonsensical that he stills as well and stares bewilderedly down at Akabane. The curses on the tip of his tongue all but disappear along with his anger.

Akabane visibly twitches under his flat, disbelieving gaze but stays quiet otherwise. Gakushuu lets him squirm for a few minutes, noting Akabane’s continued quietness and still crouched position, before he asks tersely, “Why are we ducking behind this column?”

“No reason,” Akabane says distractedly as he cranes his neck to peer from behind the pillar.

Gakushuu waits, but when no explanation for Akabane’s psychotic break comes, he leans to the side to see the source of Akabane’s attention.

It’s a man in his forties of average height in a trim charcoal grey suit with a short, neatly combed brown hair and black square glasses. Gakushuu blinks and stares back down at Akabane who is still crouching with a cell phone in hand, snapping pictures. “Are you . . . stalking someone?”

He wonders he should call 119. They have ambulances for the mentally insane, right?

Akabane whips his head back and asks exasperated, “Really, Asano?”

Gakushuu’s eyebrow twitches at the tone, and he snarks back, “Then, enlighten me. What the hell are we doing here?”

“To keep tabs on someone,” Akabane says matter-of-factly like yes, of course that is a completely normal activity that Gakushuu partakes in his daily routines, no matter the fact that he has no idea who this someone is or why this involves him in the first place.

“On _who_?”

“Shhh,” Akabane hushes him and continues impatiently, “I’m trying to listen.”

Gakushuu stares down at Akabane, unimpressed and fingers twitching with the irrepressible urge to hit him. He’s about to yell at Akabane again when he catches another man, also dressed in a suit, raising his hand to meet with the individual in question.

The man has on a dark brown bowler hat and black sunglasses, but there’s something familiar about the newcomer, something about the gait, the hand gestures . . . Gakushuu narrows his eyes and then stills in realization.

Statesman Ito?

Gakushuu’s mind runs through the implications again before he glares down at Akabane again and this time, slaps the back of Akabane’s head.

Akabane yelps and turn around to look at him indignantly. “Hey! Asano  - “

“This is for your investigation, isn’t it?” Gakushuu demands, irritated. “Why didn’t you call one of your colleagues?”

Akabane shoots him a look, still sore over the slap, but indulges him anyways. “Well, ideally, Ashiko would be the perfect cover but her mom is visiting her tonight.” He pauses and lets out a long suffering sigh. “And Tobio is too clumsy.” Akabane shrugs his shoulders and gives him a Don’t-you-see expression.

Gakushuu does not see. He gets nothing from Akabane’s explanation, and seriously, _why_ is he here?

Gakushuu drags a hand over his face and prompts wearily, already having dreading Akabane’s answer, “And you couldn’t have gone by yourself because?”

“It’s too suspicious,” Akabane says blithely as he goes back to surveil Ito and his acquaintance.

“And we aren’t?” Gakushuu points out, exasperated and incredulous. He shakes his head. That’s it. Akabane is too crazy to be understood. He turns and grits out, “I’m leaving.”

Not surprisingly, Akabane’s hand darts out and latches onto his arm like an iron hand cuff. “Ace-kun, don’t be selfish. I need a partner in crime.”

_Selfish?_ Gakushuu freezes mid-step, his mind grinding to a halt at the sheer audacity. _He’s_ the one being selfish?

Akabane continues, looking up at him with a grin, “You can pick what we can do next time.”

Next time? Gakushuu stares blankly back at Akabane before scanning the crowd around them. Theaters have security, right? Or staff? Surely, there is someone who can help him in escaping from his clearly deranged roommate. He spies a girl in a red uniform gazing in their direction and opens his mouth to call her over. But, as soon as she catches eye contact with him, her eyes dart to Akabane’s hand now gripping his wrist before she blushes a bright pink and shuffles to go help an elderly couple.

Gakushuu blinks and stifles the urge to hit his head against the column. Instead, he vigorously shakes his arm, but Akabane still grips him tight like some starving limpet.  Oh, for god’s sakes. What the hell has he done to deserve this many migraines in one day? Seething, he glares down at Akabane and growls, “What gives you the impression that I _like_ spending time with you?”

Akabane’s lips twitch upwards into a smirk even as he asks innocently, “Don’t you?”

“ _No_.”

“I’m hurt,” Akabane pouts, looking not at all contrite. He glances at Ito again before he grins, eyes glinting with glee at whatever mischief he has in mind.

Needless to say, Gakushuu makes an immediate break for the nearest exit.

Lunging after him, Akabane drags the both of them towards the ticket booth, much to Gakushuu’s displeasure and the startled alarm of the bystanders around them. Keeping a low profile, he says. Right.

“Come on, let’s get the tickets!”

“ _Let go of me!_ ”

* * *

 

Karma suppresses a snicker as he looks at Asano staring stonily at the screen even though the ads are still playing, jaw clenched and hands white knuckled on the tub of popcorn. More than once, a few oblivious high school kids have sidled into the back row only to quickly change seats at the obvious death intent radiating from Asano.

Sulking. Asano is _sulking_.

Karma turns his head towards the aisle both to hide his grin from Asano and to keep an eye on Ito and the man who he suspects is the secretary of another big name politician sitting three rows ahead of them. Mirth bubbles up in him, and this time, he bites his lips to suppress the laughter shaking through him. Man, if only he did not have to keep an eye on Ito. Asano’s reactions are _priceless._

In hindsight, Karma should probably be grateful that the statesman had already entered in the dark room before Asano delivered a long, angry tirade that consisted of venomous insults and even more menacing death threats that had those in earshot balking at the two of them. Of course, it was then that Asano’s regard for public social decorum returned, and he reluctantly restrained himself to glowering at Karma, no doubt mentally visualizing his demise in creative ways since then.

9, definitely a 9 on “Asano’s Apocalyptic Anger Scale”. At the very least, this comes only second to the hair dye debacle.

Karma hums, undeterred by the foreseeable retaliation that Asano no doubt will plan in the coming weeks. In his defense, Asano should have known better. Karma’s been way too quiet for these past few days, and like people say, all work and no pay makes for very dull people and dull times.

Hence the multitasking here.

The screen flashes red, purple, and gold as the announcer reminds everyone politely to turn off their cell phones and to refrain from talking during the movie.

There is a pause before the room completely darkens, and Karma immediately narrows his eyes at the target, er, Ito. A cheerful pop song blares through the speakers and - pop song? Karma furrows his eyebrows and glances back at the screen when a row of cherry blossom trees come into view as a young college couple enter with bikes and matching grins.

Karma blinks. Huh. The statesman apparently enjoys romances.

Most likely coming to the same conclusion, Asano jabs him in the arm and says warningly, “ _Akabane_.”

Karma shifts ever so slightly away because yup, Asano’s probability of stabbing someone, namely him, just skyrocketed to 99% and Karma knows that Asano still has a fountain pen or something tucked in his pockets. It now dawns on Karma that maybe, just maybe, Asano isn’t the best choice to be his partner in crime tonight.

He shrugs sheepishly and tries, “I didn’t pick the movie?”

“Yes, you did!” Asano hisses, finally turning sideways to glare at him. “You bought the tickets, you idiot!”

Karma is about to answer when he hears the usher behind them murmur in low tones to a woman just entering from the back exit. The feminine cadence sounds familiar, and Karma instinctively glances back to find – Damn it.

Karma mutters a curse before turning to Asano and shushing him, much to Asano’s irritation. Asano glares at him again, but before he can say anything, Karma turns his body abruptly towards Asano’s direction, one hand tugging his hood up over his face and the other diving for the popcorn in Asano’s hands. Karma nudges Asano and whispers, “Act normal, Ace-kun.”

Asano grumbles something unkind under his breath, but stays still as the woman walks past their row towards Ito and the mysterious man.

Karma immediately cranes his neck and watches them with a frown. Interesting. 

Asano sighs and prods Karma in the arm with his elbow.

“Ito-san’s secretary. She knows my face,” Karma explains as he watches the two greet the woman before gesturing slightly to the seat next to them. “And I’m not sure, but I think the other guy is Ueda’s secretary.”

Asano pauses before asking quietly, “Isn’t he also a politician?”

“One of them is leaving,” Karma answers instead and squints. It’s too dark to see, but he makes out the fuzzy outline of a suitcase held against the mystery man’s side. He doesn’t remember the mystery man having a suitcase when he arrived. Ito, on the other hand . . . 

Disgruntled, the people next to Ito and his companions grumble as the man apologizes and excuses himself to exit the row. Karma observes aloud, “He’s taking the briefcase with him.”

He waits for the man to walk past their row, waiting for the door to swing shut before Karma gets up and whispers with a smirk, “I’m following.”

Asano only sighs again and returns his attention back to the screen, apparently having resigned himself to Karma’s antics.

* * *

 

Karma tucks his hands in his pockets as he saunters after the man. To be honest, he had higher expectations for this. Delivering a briefcase in a darkened theatre room? Did Ito get his ideas for villainy from every clichéd spy novel?

Also, it’s such blatant confirmation that the man is clearly involved in something questionable. Karma rolls his eyes, almost offended by the sheer sloppiness.

The man suddenly pauses in the middle of the red carpeted hallway. Karma sighs and stops as well, casually leaning against the wall as he looks down at his phone with a bored frown. The man shifts in visible hesitation before he turns to his right and opens the door there.

Karma follows and looks up with a lifted eyebrow. Restroom. Hmm. He eyes the cleaning cart left besides the door, cataloging the bottles of cleaning solution and the forgotten white janitor shirt on the pile of paper towels.

And what do we have here?

Smirking, he tugs on the shirt, the rubber gloves, and snaps on the spare cleaning mask. He plucks the “Closed for Cleaning” yellow sign off the cart, drops it on the floor, and grabs the cart.

Karma grins as he opens the door, eyes gleaming a bright gold.

* * *

 

Karma hums lightly under his breath as he steps back into the dark room. The usher, a short kid in his teen, looks up at his entrance but says nothing.

Karma gives him his usual half-smile as he makes his way towards the rows. Either the kid recognized him from earlier or he does not care that people might be theater hopping.

Karma bets that it’s the second. He tucks his hands in his pockets and glances towards his right, three rows ahead. Huh. Ito and his secretary are still here.

Karma raises his eyebrows. The man must have actually wanted to see this movie then. He turns and sidesteps through the row, appreciating the fact that they’re in the very back and that Asano’s mood from earlier had effectively scared off any potential seat mates. Otherwise, people would be judgmentally glaring at him right now.

He walks five seats in. Surprise flickers through him at the sight of Asano still sitting there until the weight in his pocket reminds him that Karma still has Asano’s car keys in his possession. He plops down into the seat next to Asano, who looks startlingly much more relaxed than before, eyes trained on the screen with surprising focus. Karma blinks and peers at him curiously.

“I hate this movie. Everything the protagonist does is ridiculously unrealistic,” Asano murmurs, voice assessing and final as if delivering a review.

Karma blinks again, eyebrows shooting up. He asks, incredulous, “Are you actually watching it?”

At that, Asano gives him a dirty look and answers condescendingly, “What else am I supposed to be doing?”

He turns back to the screen in clear dismissal, as if that explained everything. Karma gapes at him, speechless. He reaches out and jabs Asano hard in the arm. Something is definitely wrong here. All of his nonexistent spidey senses are tingling.

Asano immediately glowers at him and hisses, “ _What_ the hell are you doing?”

“I’m checking if you’re Ace-kun,” Karma retorts and jabs him in the arm again. Asano stares at him then, face twitching as if torn between amusement and irritation. Or at least, that is what it looks like. It could also just be the odd shadows reflecting off the screen onto Asano’s features.

Karma prods him again and stresses, “Did he leave and make some imposter stay here instead? The Ace-kun I know would be stabbing me right now with the straw from the fountain drink at the very least.”

Asano gives him an exceedingly dry look and asks, voice dripping in sarcasm, “Is that what you want me to do? I had no idea that you have such a masochistic streak. If you want, I could also throw the fountain drink in your face too while I’m at it.”

Widening his eyes, Karma deliberately lets out a relieved exhale, “Oh, it _is_ you, Ace- kun.”

Asano mutters something darkly under his breath before throwing the tub of popcorn unceremoniously in Karma’s lap.

Karma snickers and leans back. The popcorn, as usual, smells better than it tastes, and he was gone too long to understand the movie now. Not that there was much plot to follow anyways, what with being only an hour long and the generic love story.

The movie ends fifteen minutes later with the couple riding off into the sunset. On their bikes. With the cherry blossoms falling all around them in a pink shower. Again.  Karma blinks. Is this the ending? Or the beginning? Did they make any progress? Why is it a full circle back to square 1?

The movie fades out to black with the words “The End” appearing with a flourish. There is a smattering of applause around the room as the lights brighten up again. Asano sighs beside him, “That was a waste of an hour.”

Karma shrugs and stretches his arms with a drawl, “I think it was productive.”

Asano lifts an eyebrow, mouth poised to make a retort, before he pauses and wrinkles his nose. “Why do you smell like bleach?”

Karma grins at him, smile too wide to be safe, and Asano quickly backtracks, “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

“Plausible deniability again, Ace-kun?”

Asano makes an agreeing sound. Karma snickers again and picks up the tub of half eaten popcorn. He glances towards the aisle and freezes at the sight of Ito and his secretary making their way out towards the back exit, which means. . . 

“Oi, Asano get up!” Karma nudges him and points towards the aisle next to the wall. “We’re heading that way.”

Asano looks at the ten empty seats stretched out before them in that direction before glancing at the five empty seats next to Karma in the other. “And why are we using the walkway that is the farthest way from us?”

“Exercise,” Karma says carelessly as he nudges Asano to get up again. Asano gives him another look clearly questioning Karma’s sanity before he gets up with a sigh.

“Excuse me, can the people in the last two rows on the left stay for a moment? The lady here lost her purse,” the usher calls out, looking visibly annoyed, one hand tapping his arm impatiently. A woman in her mid-twenties with long brunette hair and a pink sweatshirt fidgets besides him.

Karma frowns, glancing towards the aisle where yup, Ito and his secretary are instinctively looking over in the direction that the usher called out.

Alright, so in hindsight, maybe sitting in the back row is not so strategic after all. He reaches back for his hood only to grasp thin air. Karma freezes. Right. He ditched it because the cleaning solutions seeped through the sleeves.

Damn it.

Karma reflexively sidles past Asano who’s sitting back down again with a sigh and automatically plops himself down in the other seat so that Asano is now the one closest to the aisle. He scooches down until his hair is shielded from behind Asano’s profile, and just for good measure, he sidles as close to Asano as the armrest between them allows.

Asano, to his credit, does not shove him away but rubs his temples and says exasperatedly, “Now what are you doing?”

“Hiding, Ace-kun,” Karma answers immediately, slightly irritated at his current lapse in judgement. He’s usually so much more prepared than this. This has to be one of his more amateur moments in sleuthing. “Where did your acute observation skills go?”

Before Asano can answer, someone who sounds unnervingly like Ito – Shit. Karma immediately sinks down even further into his seat and instinctively hides his face into the closest thing, which happens to be Asano’s arm  – asks, “Is something wrong?”

“Oh, I – um”, a woman who sound suspiciously like the secretary pauses. “I thought for a second there that I saw someone – No, I must have been seeing things. Shall we go?”

Ito agrees, and Karma trains his ears to their footsteps, waiting for them to fade out the door.

Asano suddenly clears his throat, the sound vibrating strangely through Karma’s ears before he says deceptively lightly, “Are you just going to hug my arm the entire time? Because the usher is giving us a strange look.”

Karma raises his head in confusion, eyes flicking from his arm somehow wrapped around Asano’s and then to the amused glint to Asano’s eyes.

Damn it.

Karma immediately snatches his arm back and says dismissively, “Ace-kun, you complain too much.”

He glances at the usher now staring at them in utter bewilderment. Because Karma is well, Karma, he raises an eyebrow back in clear challenge. In a voice too cheerful and eyes gleaming in stark contrast, he asks, “Is there something wrong?”

The usher quickly shakes his head and gestures them to the aisle, evidently dismissing them from the suspect pool for the woman’s purse.

Asano does not move and merely surveys Karma like he finally found the silver lining in his day. Great. Karma frowns a bit at the amused smirk on Asano’s lips. He really, really should not have picked Asano to be his accomplice today. He flings his arm out gallantly, making sure not to lose his usual amiable grin, “Well, after you, Ace-kun.”

Asano rises up smoothly, irritatingly regal, and moves towards the aisle. As if in afterthought, he states without looking back, “Dinner is on you.”

Karma makes a face as he follows after. “Ne, I bought the tickets _and_ the popcorn, Ace-kun. Why are you such an expensive date?”

Karma is too busy snickering at Asano’s indignant retort as they exit to notice the usher and the rest of the bystanders looking after them in complete bewilderment.

The usher coughs awkwardly in his sleeve after the weird – er, couple? Buddies? – leaves. He sighs, glancing at the woman scanning the seats now for her purse along with some other cooperative patrons.

He sighs again, wishing that his shift would end soon. Saving up for that new video game is so not worth cleaning up after these really problematic adults.

Maybe he’ll just beg his mom to increase his allowance or something.

* * *

 

It strikes Karma much later that night when he is in bed and just about to drift off to sleep that maybe, in some nonsensical turn of events, he did take Asano out on an accidental date.

The thought is so far out from left field that Karma’s eyes blink open of their own accord in surprise.

He did kind of take Asano to watch a movie together, even if he was only present for like 1/4th of the movie. And then because Asano was actually pretty serious about dinner – Karma suspects that Asano was simply fed up with take-out food for the past week – they went out to a restaurant, which Karma picked up the bill for.

Well, technically, Karma paid with the credit card he swiped from Asano’s wallet, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

Karma pauses, eyes staring bewilderedly out into the darkness of his bedroom. This sounds like –

He groans and rubs through his hair, hoping to scratch out all the crazy out of his head. Nope, he’s not thinking about this. Karma yanks the comforter over his head and defiantly turns his cheek into the pillow.

Yeah, no. He’s sleeping. Sleeping.

First, the vacuum. Then, the coffee machine, and now this.

Karma shuts his eyes and thinks that all of his sleep deprivation can be traced back to Asano in some way or another.

* * *

 

Time: Three Days After

Gakushuu grips the folders and wonders if he can eject his entire Legal Department out the window. Defenestration is not that severe of a crime, is it? He can cite his obscenely high levels of stress and aggravation as a legitimate excuse, can’t he?

Yumiko makes a noise of surprise as Gakushuu strides through the glass doors with yet another pile of paperwork under his arms. He places them none too gently on her desk and orders, “File these for me, and get me a coffee. Black, no sugar.”

Yumiko does not even flinch, already accustomed to his temper, and nods. “Of course, but before you go in, I – President, wait!”

Gakushuu pushes opens the second set of glass doors, one foot through the doorway, when he spies a familiar redhead perched on the corner of his desk.

Gakushuu blinks and immediately states, “No.” Akabane grins, and then Gakushuu’s suddenly overcome with the urge to throw _himself_ out of the nearest window. As Akabane opens his mouth, Gakushuu cuts in and repeats firmly, “No.”

Learning his lesson last time, Gakushuu quickly backs out of the doorstep and whirls around to stare accusingly at Yumiko who is smiling guiltily back at him. “Where the hell is security? Yumiko! Why do you keep letting this idiot in?”

She shrugs and replies placidly, “Well, in my defense, President, he was already there in your office when I returned from my lunch break.”

Before Gakushuu can remind her with a ‘That’s why the phone is there for you to call security’, Akabane chimes, eyes deceptively wide and feigning mock hurt, “Why are you being so mean to me?”

“Why am I being so – ” Gakushuu splutters and turns to throw Akabane a dark, disbelieving look. “Are you _insane_?”

“Well, if you think I am, then why do you trust me with all this paperwork?” Akabane asks cheerfully, finger running through the binders on his desk pointedly.

Gakushuu pauses, and Akabane tilts his head, golden irises flashing, daring him to call his bluff. Gakushuu narrows his eyes, undeterred, “Go ahead, there’s nothing important there.”

Yumiko clears her throat delicately, “That depends. Have you checked the contract from Suzuki Corporation yet?”

Gakushuu’s forehead creases. Akabane’s lips stretch into a satisfied smirk, catlike and triumphantly smug as he dangles a thin blue portfolio from his fingers. Goddamn _it_. He snaps to Yumiko, “Call security.”

Yumiko sighs as Gakushuu stalks back into his office, straight to his desk. He reaches out and snatches the folder from Akabane’s fingers with a growl. “Get out.”

Ignoring him, Akabane only leans back, feet deliberately kicking the air. He hums, “I need a favor.”

Gakushuu frowns and sits down in his leather chair. “And the movie wasn’t one?”

“Alright,” Akabane concedes, surprisingly agreeable, before grinning again, eyes alight with familiar mischief. “ _Another_ favor.”

Gakushuu wants to ask what kind of favors involve political blackmail or whatever it is that Akabane is planning with Ito because from his point of view, that is not a _favor_ , and Akabane’s expression spells trouble in neon, capital letters. Instead, Gakushuu rubs his temples and says irritated, “No.”

“An itsy-bitsy teeny tiny favor,” Akabane pushes, fingers pinching together in demonstration.

“ _No._ ”

“Asano,” Akabane drawls, eyes bright and lips still quirked in a playful grin.

Gakushuu narrows his eyes and bites out, “No. I said no! Do I need to throw a dictionary at you? Why can’t you understand the word no?”

“That’s violence, Ace-kun.”

Gakushuu stifles an exasperated groan and instead glowers at him. “Then do you want me to helpfully escort you from my office and out of this building?”

Akabane pretends to consider the question for a moment before grinning again, “I would rather not.”

Gakushuu’s eye twitches. Maybe he really does need to fortify his office, so that deranged redheads with far too much free time on their hands stop breaking in. “I’m going to count to 10. If you’re not out by then, I’m not responsible for what happens next.”

Akabane only smirks back and leans forward, deliberately crinkling the folders underneath him as he does so. “I’m not moving until you say yes.”

“I’ll call security,” Gakushuu warns.

Akabane shrugs. “Fine. Call them.”

Gakushuu narrows his eyes and surveys him critically, “You’re not going to leave?”

“Nope.”

Gakushuu raises an eyebrow and says coolly, “Fine. Stay there for all I care.”

Two can play at this game. He deliberately reaches for a folder in the tray and opens it up, eyes fixated on the document instead of Akabane.

It’s only three minutes in before Gakushuu hears the telltale crinkling of paper as Akabane shifts restlessly on the desk. Gakushuu hides his smirk. Akabane always had trouble staying still. Still, Akabane waits it out for oh, another mere, pitiful five minutes before he nudges Asano’s knee with his foot, “Ace-kun, are you really going to ignore me?”

Gakushuu ignores him and pointedly flips a page. Akabane makes an irritated sound, and then, the folder falls from his hands as a black leather shoe suddenly invades his field of vision. Gakushuu grits his teeth and stares balefully at the offending footwear. “Yes? How may I help you?”

Two can’t play this game because there is no game. There is only crazy here.

“Just help me out Asano, ne? I’ll give you back the contract.”

Gakushuu’s eyebrow furrow. “I have it with me. What are you talking about?” His voice trails off as the blue portfolio opens only to show nothing inside. Oh, for Pete’s sakes. Gakushuu takes a breath and looks up at the ceiling in a meditative effort to calm himself. He holds out his hand and says flatly, “Give it back.”

“Oh, this?” Akabane questions, waving the paper in his hands. He grins and suggests brightly, “How about you do me a favor and I’ll return the important contract in its pristine, undamaged condition?”

“Or I could just take it back from you.” Gakushuu leans forward, hands darting to snatch the paper. Akabane immediately shifts himself back, switching the paper behind his back and blocking Gakushuu’s advances with the other arm. Gakushuu scowls and presses forward, dodging the hit to his cheek and stretching his fingers out to grab the -

“President?” Yumiko’s voice suddenly drifts through the air as she opens the door. Gakushuu blinks, stilling mid-motion he glances over at her carrying a red folder in her hands. “Please look this over and sign – “

She freezes midsentence, grey eyes widening in surprise, as she looks over the two of them. Gakushuu looks down and belatedly realizes that he’s well, on top of Akabane who is lying nearly flat on the desk with one hand still keeping the paper out of Gakushuu’s reach and the other gripping Gakushuu’s other hand to push him back. Gakushuu blinks down at Akabane who stares back with similar surprise. At this distance, Gakushuu idly registers a faint citrus smell wafting from Akabane’s hair, sweet and cloying.

He wrinkles his nose. Shampoo?

“I apologize for the intrusion,” Yumiko voices demurely, and Gakushuu looks back up, catching the slight reddening of her cheeks as Yumiko gracefully but hastily exits.

“Yumiko?” Gakushuu asks blankly before his mind finally whirs back in action. Gakushuu flinches with the realization and suppresses an exasperated groan. He glares down at Akabane and demands, voice irritated and accusing, “What have you been telling her?”

“Nothing!” Akabane retorts, no doubt having reached similar conclusions. He look strangely miffed. “If anything, it’s your fault that we keep getting into these situations. Admit it, Ace-kun, you have a perverse kink for these misunderstandings.”

“I have a  - “ Gakushuu repeats disbelievingly before he takes a breath and continues irately, “What the hell are you even saying? Do you hear yourself? Get off already!”

Akabane makes an exasperated face at him. “What are _you_ saying? You’re the one who’s on top of me!”

Muttering darkly under his breath, Gakushuu straightens up and sits back in his chair with a scowl. Akabane sits up as well with a frown, hand reaching up to readjust his skewed shirt.

No wonder Yumiko arrived at the preposterous conclusion that she did. Gakushuu sighs and rubs his temples again. They stay silent for a moment, and Gakushuu idly reshuffles the folders on his desk.

Akabane finally looks over at him curiously. “So, is that a yes?”

“ _No!_ ”

* * *

 

Time: The Next Day, Er, Night

“Why am I here?” Gakushuu asks wearily, hand adjusting the black sleeve of his formal blazer. He’s past the stage of throwing a fit and now he’s at the point of reluctantly resigning himself to Akabane’s special brand of crazy in hopes that the torture will end soon.

It does not seem like it will.

“To appreciate art, of course,” Akabane says glibly, dressed in a flattering dark green collared shirt and black slacks. He takes his phone out to snap another photo as he nods to the painting in front of them. “See? Look at the mustard yellows, the pickled greens, the ketchup red, and the mayo white. It’s a deconstruction of condiments.”

Akabane’s newfound appreciation for art would be a lot more convincing if he did not nearly crop the painting out of the frame to focus on the clearly targeted woman in a dark slinky violet dress chattering with her friends. Also, Gakushuu skims through the brochure and flatly points out, “Really? And here it says that it’s an abstract representation of joy.”

“Descriptions are for plebeians,” Akabane answers dismissively. “Besides, you don’t understand art. You interpret it.”

Akabane seemingly aims his phone towards another painting only to snap another photo of a man in an obnoxiously orange shirt and bright red slacks talking with a man dressed in dizzying checkerboard print. Akabane is clearly people watching, not art watching. Gakushuu silently repeats his mantra for the week: Plausible deniability, plausible deniability.

He does not want to know why Akabane is doing recon during an art gala. Instead, he takes another sip of his champagne and comments dryly, “How insightful of you. Why am I here again?”

Akabane snaps another photo as he answers cheerfully, “Because the tickets were sold out and I knew Ace-kun with his amazing connections as a CEO could get in.”

Gakushuu stares at him and deadpans, “Lovely. I’m so glad that I can be your personal VIP card. Is there anything else you want me to get for you?”

He’s half serious as he finishes because as annoying as it is, if Gakushuu indulges him this once and gets it all over with, then perhaps Akabane will stop pestering him.

Apparently overhearing them, a group of college female students clad in various jeweled tone dresses and dark furs giggle and give Gakushuu and Akabane a wide-eyed gaze as they walk past.

Gakushuu frowns, forehead creasing in confusion. Is it him or are art lovers an extremely eccentric crowd? He takes a sip of champagne and lifts an eyebrow at Akabane quizzically. No wonder Akabane blends in here.

“Great. Now they think you’re my sugar daddy,” Akabane drawls in lieu of an explanation.

Gakushuu promptly chokes on the champagne. Akabane snickers, finally putting down his phone, and pats his packs condescendingly. “There, there.”

A bit horrified, Gakushuu glowers at him and points out brusquely, “I was being sarcastic.”

Akabane shrugs and takes another photo, visibly amused. “I know.”

“We’re the same age.”

“It’s not my fault I look younger than you,” Akabane pauses as he considers his statement again. He narrows his eyes and glances back in the direction that the girls left in. “Wait, how young do they think I am? Do they think I’m in high school or in college?”

He looks back at Gakushuu in clear expectance, lips twisted in an affronted frown. For god’s sakes, this is what get Akabane offended?

Gakushuu blinks and downs the rest of his champagne. He has a sinking suspicion that alcohol will be his only source of consolation for tonight. “Does it matter? Especially considering that one of those options, if true, would be a felony in some prefectures.”

“It matters to me,” Akabane insists before his usual half grin returns, apparently having found the hilarity of the question again. He prods Gakushuu in the arm and continues, “Ne, Ace-kun, answer me.”

“Well, you have the immaturity of a toddler, so I have no idea why you’re choosing to draw the line now.”

Akabane rolls his eyes at him and proceeds to drag him over to the sculptures. Muttering some choice words under his breath, Gakushuu beckons one of the waiters carrying a tray of champagne.

Gakushuu indulges Akabane and follows him as he flits from artwork to artwork or well, from target to target, to be more exact. Six glasses of champagne and 8 sculptures of increasing deformity later, he taps Akabane on the shoulder and says wryly, “Not that this art tour is not enlightening, but I want to leave.” At Akabane’s continuance in snapping photos, Gakushuu frowns and emphasizes, “ _Now_.”

He’s starting to feel warm under the bright lights of the gala, sweat trickling down the back of his neck. Of course, that could also be to the amount of alcohol that he consumed. Gakushuu is also very decidedly bored. Art never did seem to capture his attention.  

Akabane glances back at him, amused at Gakushuu’s disgruntled expression. He smirks, golden eyes gleaming impishly, as he leans closer and says slyly, “You’re so impatient, Ace-kun. What? Are you already that eager for it to be only the two of us?”

A woman standing nearby immediately coughs into her sleeve and not so discreetly moves away with flaming cheeks.

Gakushuu bites back a curse and instead reaches out to clamp a hand over Akabane’s mouth. He hisses, “Stop talking. I need you to stop talking.” Akabane lifts his eyebrows suggestively underneath his hand, and oh, Gakushuu is so fed up with tonight. Scowling, he snatches back his hand and nearly frightens the server passing them. Fixing a more severe look than the server deserves, Gakushuu demands sharply, “Do you have anything stronger?”

Like brain bleach, his mind silently adds. The server looks anxiously down at the tray. Gakushuu sighs and takes two flutes of champagne, “Never mind.”

He downs one like a glass of water as Akabane snickers next to him. Suddenly grabbing his arm, Akabane pushes him forward and says gleefully, “Oh, Ace-kun! Go pose over there by the statue that looks like a severed arm.”

Gakushuu makes a face as he looks towards the misshapen sculpture completely made of recycled materials, depicting a chopped tree trunk that does look unnervingly like a severed arm. He really does not understand art. Not missing the fact that the sculpture stands right between two large entourages of people, Gakushuu asks sourly, “Why should I? Also, stop calling me that.”

Akabane hums, “And here I thought you’ve come to accept my adoring nickname for you.” He pauses and tilts his head back, voice teasing, “Do you want me to call you something else? Like Da –“

“Is this fine?” Gakushuu interrupts quickly as he strides over to the sculpture. Damn it, he’s not drunk enough for this. In fact, what kind of champagne are they even serving? He does not even feel _buzzed_.

Akabane bites his lips, but Gakushuu can still see the laughter shaking through his form. “Perfect,” Akabane finally manages out, cheeks reddened with his mirth.

Gakushuu visualizes flinging the champagne at Akabane before drinking the rest of it and depositing the two flutes with a passing server. He reaches Akabane and says lowly, voice dark and irritated, “I hate you to such an extent that words simply fail me.”

“How poetic of you, Ace-kun,” Akabane croons before pointing to yet another sculpture, this time of what looks like an four-legged grizzly bear. What even is this exhibit? “Turn that way, ok?”

“Why does my life lately seem like a third rate rip off of a James Bond movie?” Gakushuu mutters as he walks over to the sculpture and glares over at Akabane.

Akabane takes the photo and then walks over to him, belatedly answering his question with an amused smirk. “If I’m the spy, does that make you the fetching but dangerous eye candy?”

“Don’t forget backstabbing,” Gakushuu answers dryly. And because what the hell, he plays along and adds drolly, “Sure, why not? I think I can poison you by the end of this gala.”

Startled, Akabane laughs freely at that, lips curving into a delighted grin. Gakushuu pauses, unable to stop himself from looking at Akabane in slight fascination.

He does not know if it’s a good thing how Akabane seems genuinely – oddly - pleased by Gakushuu’s death threat. Or how vivid of a gold Akabane’s eyes seem to glow under the lights.

Gakushuu beckons the server for another drink. Maybe he _is_ getting intoxicated.

* * *

 

He does not manage to poison Akabane. What he does succeed in is giving himself a terrifically terrible hangover that has him groaning into his pillow in the morning. Gakushuu cracks open his eyes and stares at the ceiling, willing the room to stop spinning in dizzying shapes and colors.

It takes a few moments before Gakushuu stops feeling like he is riding on a carousel. His phone suddenly chirps, unnervingly loud and high-pitched from his bedside table. Gakushuu winces, temples throbbing in process. Without sitting up, he blearily fumbles for his phone and taps to open the text message.

It’s from Yumiko. She informs him that news of his donation to the arts institute of – Gakushuu squints as the words blur in front of his eyes – something or another has resulted in good feedback from the public.

Gakushuu frowns. He doesn’t remember . . . doing that . . .

She sounds pleased at the unplanned PR, but Gakushuu has no idea how gaining social capital from the art circles will help his real estate ventures.

Gakushuu throws the phone haphazardly on the dresser and turns his face back into the covers with another groan.

Is it just him or has he been seriously procrastinating in his efforts to get rid of Akabane? That is the whole purpose of the roommate deal, right?

Gakushuu sighs.

He needs coffee.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. You guys are probably like yay, she finally updated and then, f - I have to reread this now because I've completely forgotten the story).
> 
> A thousand apologies. I've just been extremely busy and distracted. i have plans for next chapter but I, hmm, only have dialogue so far. Hopefully, you enjoyed this chapter. My sleep deprivation was showing through so I'm sorry if this chapter was too snarky or OC, lol. Apparently, I'm a sarcastic person. Thank you to all those who still commented and continued to wait for my elusive update. I really, really hope I did not disappoint you with this chapter.
> 
> As always, please comment down below, leave a kudo, or whatever you want. Your comments always inspire me to write more, and more importantly, they cheer me up so much after a long day. I hope you're all healthy and happy in this Year of the Dog 2018!!! You all deserve cookies for being such amazing, supportive readers!ヽ(ﾟｰﾟ*ヽ)ヽ(*ﾟｰﾟ*)ﾉ(ﾉ*ﾟｰﾟ)ﾉ
> 
> As for those who follow my other fics, I am finally getting back into the groove of writing again. Quite frankly, I have been writing chapters all this time, but they're unfinished because unlike normal people, instead of concentrating on one story at a time, I write where my plot bunnies take me.
> 
> Which is all over the place.
> 
> Anyways, Summer Lovebug basically has a finished story outline but only two chapters of only just dialogue. (I tend to start with the dialogue first in all my fics.) An unpublished TodoBaku fic that I meant to be a oneshot has exploded in 40+ pages and taken a life of its own, so that might distract me. (BTW, did you know that Kacchan and Karma have the same VA? * Squeals inside * I knew there was a reason why they're some of my fav characters.)
> 
> The Colors in our Blood has hmm, two chapters in progress, both of which are half written and the other half just dialogue. I feel like revising the plot line a bit, so I'm uncertain where it should go.
> 
> Again, feel free to talk or discuss with me down below. If there's anything you'd like to see in this fic or even in my others, don't be shy! Suggest and I will consider. I promise, I read everything even if I fail at replying ≧◡≦


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